


Lifeline: Canada

by grey853



Series: Bygones [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:29:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 122,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser and Ray move to Canada and are making a new life together despite past and ongoing traumas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is Book Three of the Bygones Saga.

* * *

**Bygones 3  
Lifeline: Canada  
** by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Bygones%203,%20Lifeline:%20Canada)

* * *

**Part One**

"You should've poked me."

"Poked you?"  
  
Ray squinted in the sunlight and adjusted his sunglasses as his partner stowed the last bag in the back of the jeep. "Yeah, Ben, poked me, slapped me, anything to wake me up. You just let me keep on sleeping and making an ass out of myself."

Ben allowed Diefenbaker to settle in the backseat before he climbed in behind the wheel. "Ray, there's no reason to be embarrassed."

Ray slid in beside him, tired and a little shaky. "Easy for you to say. You weren't the one screaming his fool head off like some kind of idiot."

"I'm sure people understood. A lot of people are afraid of flying."  
  
Ray stared out the window, his gaze focused away from Ben, his stomach in knots at the memory of waking on the plane drenched in sweat and everybody staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "I'm not afraid of flying."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"So why'd you say it when the stewardess asked?"  
  
Ben tugged at his ear and then turned in his seat to face Ray. "I suppose a small prevarication seemed appropriate at the time. I wanted to avoid any awkward explanation or embarrassment."  
  
"What's awkward or embarrassing about saying your partner's crazy as a loon, a real nut job, a head case?"

Reaching over, Ben captured Ray's shoulder and squeezed gently in reassurance. "You're not crazy. You're tired and emotionally drained, as am I. Let's just go to the cabin. Once there, we can rest properly."

Ray finally turned to face his partner, lips thinned into a smirk. "I can nap, but I'll still be a head case, Ben. Might as well get used to it."  
  
"Ray "  
  
Suddenly more frustrated, his whole body achy from the long flight, Ray interrupted. "Just drive, okay? You're right about one thing, Im beat."

Reluctantly, Ben gave in without further argument and started the engine. Ray fingered the itchy stitches above his left eye, a reminder of the latest attempt on his life. He didn't want to think about that right now, wanted nothing more than to forget about it forever. Pushing those thoughts away, he turned his attention to the town. "It looks different."  
  
"What does?"  
  
"Yellowknife. It looks all, I don't know, busy."  
  
Ben chuckled as he merged into traffic. "It's tourist season."  
  
"Yeah, maybe, but it looks funny with no snow."  
  
"Yes, yes, it does."  
  
"All bright and shiny."  
  
"Bright and shiny?"  
  
"I don't think we saw this much sun the whole time we were here at Christmas."  
  
"That's because we didn't."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No. We only had a few hours of sunlight each day in late December. At the end of June, it's reversed. We'll only have a few hours of darkness."  
  
Ray smiled broadly for the first time, the idea of all that sun without the sweltering heat of Chicago sounding like a good thing. It didn't hurt that he hated the long nights back home when his nightmares got the best of him more often than not. "Sweet."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Ray shifted in the seat and got a bit more comfortable before he changed the subject. His damaged right leg ached from the long flight, so he kneaded it as he talked. "I guess we have your buddy Alan to thank for the Jeep, huh?"  
  
"My buddy Alan?"  
  
"You know who I mean."  
  
"I know who you mean and I know what you mean. He's not my **buddy** in the way you're implying."  
  
"I'm not implying anything. I'm just saying "  
  
"Ray, don't start."  
  
"I'm not starting if you're not." After a long pause, Ray asked again, "Did he get us the Jeep or not?"  
  
"He did. I also asked him to stock the cabin for when we arrived."  
  
Rubbing his chin, Ray took a deep breath and pushed away the wave of jealousy that washed over him. "I guess that's a good thing."  
  
"I thought so." Ben cleared his throat. "Look, Ray, I know you don't like Alan, but there's no reason to be jealous."  
  
"Reason's not my strong suit."  
  
"No, no, its not, but that's neither here nor there. I just think you should be a little less reactive when it comes to dealing with Alan. He is, after all, my friend, and we need his help."  
  
"Reactive? How the fuck am I reactive?"  
  
Ben didn't bother to answer that. Instead, he added, "Regardless of what you think about his motives, he's offered to keep a lookout for any strange or nefarious characters who might come into town while we're here."  
  
"Nefarious? That means like the bad guys, right?"  
  
"Correct. Alan is an active officer at this post for a few more weeks. He'll have a much better opportunity to give us a chin's up, as it were, if someone suspicious should arrive and ask about our whereabouts."  
  
"Chin's up? You mean head's up?"  
  
Ben didn't falter at the correction. "Right you are, Ray, head's up."  
  
Ray studied Ben for the tell-tale signs before he said accusingly, "You knew that."  
  
Ben kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through the traffic, his lips thinned into a small grin. "Knew what?"  
  
"Head's up. You're just using that whole distraction thing you do."  
  
"And why would I do that?"  
  
"Because you don't like when I act crazy. Big surprise, neither do I." Ray waved off another protest from Ben. "Look, it's not easy for me. I don't control how my head works. I think about you and this Alan guy and how much you've got in common and I can't help but wonder if maybe "  
  
"If maybe what?"  
  
"You know."  
  
Without answering, Ben abruptly pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine. He turned in the seat, his face tight and his eyes dark with fatigue, but determined. Diefenbaker yipped a couple of times from the back seat and Ben snapped, "Not now. I'll deal with this." He turned his attention back to Ray. "Say it."  
  
Arms crossed, his jaw tight, Ray shook his head. "No."  
  
" **Say** it, Ray. What do you wonder?"  
  
Uncomfortable with that steely gaze, Ray stared down at his lap. The words formed on his lips, his fear knotting his stomach as he spoke softly. "I just think your life would be easier sometimes if you were with somebody like him instead of me, that's all."

Taking one long, exasperated breath, Ben made his case. "Good God, Ray, do you really think I care about **easy**? Do you really think that I'd prefer to be with someone like Alan, a married man whom I only see as a friend? What kind of life would that be? Do you **really** think that's what I want instead of being with the man I love with all my heart? Is that the way you see me, someone who would opt for the easy life rather than one that's worth fighting for?"

"Well, when you put it that way, maybe not." Ray cocked his head and met Ben's gaze again, more relieved than he cared to admit. "With all your heart, huh?"  
  
"With every fiber of my being. What do I have to do to make you truly believe that?"  
  
Not for the first time, Ray saw a flicker of desperation in his lover's eyes. He hated putting it there, hated that he caused Ben to feel so on edge, so defensive. He reached over and took Ben's hand in his own, needing to explain the best he could. "I believe it, I do. It's just sometimes my mind goes a little off the deep end, does a little 'fuck me, I'm crazy' before I can stop it, you know? It's not you, Ben. It's me."  
  
"But what you think and do affects me, Ray. When you have doubts about me, about my love and intentions, about us, it's hurtful."  
  
Ray rubbed his forehead with his right hand but didn't release Ben with his left. "I don't mean to do that. I never want to hurt you. I'd rather poke my own eye out than do that."  
  
"Then stop fretting about Alan and thinking I'd be better off with somebody else. Nothing is further from the truth."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes, Ray."  
  
Nodding in acceptance, suddenly more relaxed and satisfied with Ben's words, Ray patted his lover's face. "I guess we should get back on the road then."  
  
Ben captured the hand at his cheek and kissed the palm, making Ray's heart go all kind of fluttery. Then Ben turned and started the engine again. After a few minutes of traveling in silence, Ben sighed heavily and rolled his neck to stretch tight muscles. Ray asked, "What?"  
  
"Im just tired."  
  
"Yeah, it's been a long day, hell, a long week."  
  
"Yes, it has, though the flight wasnt quite as lengthy as before."  
  
"Just as boring though. What time is it anyway?"  
  
"After eleven."  
  
"At night?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No wonder we're tired. We've been flying since early this morning. With all this light, I didnt think it was that late."  
  
"I think I mentioned the longer days, Ray."  
  
"I know. It just seems funny to be like noontime at nighttime."  
  
"You'll get used to it."  
  
"Or not."  
  
"Or not."

* * *

Gravel crunched under the tires as they pulled into the driveway of the cabin. The last time they'd seen the place, it was covered with a blanket of snow about a foot deep. Now it stood on a carpet of grasses and low brush with a rich forest background. For as far as Ray could see, there were evergreen trees and a clear, piercing sky blue that made his eyes ache. The air smelled fresher than fresh, too, and clean, full of pine and kind of earthy.

Ray got out and zipped up his jacket against the chill and the bite of the arctic wind. It might be June, but it was still Canada and colder than hell, or at least colder than Chicago during a heat wave and what he was used to. He pulled the seat forward and let Dief out from his side of the Jeep. As the wolf bounded out, he circled and yipped in glee a few times, almost like a kid who just got to go to the circus. "Yeah, I know, buddy. It's been a long trip."  
  
Diefenbaker sat back on his haunches and let out a little howl, not a huge, I'm a big, bad wolf howl, but more like, damn, it's good to be home howl. He danced in a few more circles and then headed for the woods beyond the cabin. Meanwhile, Ben opened the back of the Jeep and pulled out the bags. Ray thumbed toward the AWOL companion, not really sure if it was a good idea for a citified wolf to go running wild like that. "Is he going to be okay out there by himself?"  
  
"He'll be fine, Ray. He's a wolf."  
  
"I know he's a wolf, but he's been in Chicago for a long time. Maybe he's lost his instincts or something."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Quite sure." Ben shouldered one of the packs and then picked up two others. Ray jumped and grabbed the rest and then headed towards the front porch, something Ray hadn't really seen or fully appreciated the last time they'd been there. He'd been too busy falling on his skinny ass or breaking his neck on the ice when he sneaked back in from the outhouse. He hadn't realized how big it was, how it came out about ten foot from the door and went along half the length of the cabin. It'd be a nice place to just sit and talk once they got settled and bought a couple of chairs. 

As he opened the door, Ben interrupted his cozy thoughts about their future porch-sitting days. "Don't worry about Diefenbaker, Ray. He'll be fine. He's home."  
  
"Home, huh?"  
  
Ben's voice softened as he held the door open and motioned for Ray to go inside before him. "As are we."  
  
Ray walked in, the cabin warmer inside than outside, but not by much. Still, it looked nice, neat and tidy, new plaid curtains in the windows and a matching dark burgundy and green patchwork quilt folded along the foot of the bed still covered in the familiar tan blanket. Fresh wildflowers, all yellows, reds, and violet, spilled out of mason jars on the table and on the bedside shelf. Attached to the ceiling above the bed, a wooden circle held netting that hadn't been there at Christmas. It seemed like old Alan had thought of everything to make things as comfy as possible. Ray stopped and looked around some more, nodding in approval. "They've done some work in here while we were gone."  
  
Ben dropped the bags over by the bed. "I can see that." He stepped to the table and picked up a folded paper lying on a glass casserole dish. "It's a note from Alan."  
  
Ray put his bags next to Ben's and then he sat down at the table, working hard to keep his voice neutral. "What's he say?"  
  
Picking up the lid of the dish, Ben uncovered the hand-shaped sugar cookies. He gave one to Ray to taste test. "He says that his wife and children made the cookies to welcome us to Canada. His wife, Cheri, made the blackout curtains for you because she remembers how hard it was for her to sleep when Alan was first posted here. She also made the quilt in honor of us buying the cabin."  
  
"She made us the quilt, like from scratch and everything, just for us?"

"Apparently it's a hobby."  
  
"Nice hobby. Nice lady" Ray nibbled off one of the fingers of his cookie. "These are good."  
  
Ben held the note out to Ray. "Would you like to read it yourself, make sure there aren't any secret codes or declarations of his undying affection?"  
  
Frowning, Ray didnt look up, just shook his head and finished off his cookie. "You made your point, Ben. I'm an idiot. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

"You're sure?"  
  
Ben liked to twist the knife sometimes for good measure, so Ray let it go. It wasnt like Ben didn't deserve a little payback for all the aggravation. "Im sure. You want a cookie or not?"  
  
"No, thank you."  
  
"You don't know what you're missing." Ray shoved another cookie in his mouth and talked with a few crumbs still on his lips. "Yum." 

"I don't need all that sugar." Ben playfully dropped the lid on the dish before Ray had a chance to snatch another, almost smashing Ray's fingers. "Why don't I see what else we have in the cabinets and fix us something that has some actual nutritional value?"  
  
"Yeah, you could do that or I could just eat the rest of the cookies."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"Just kidding. Go ahead. I am kind of hungry."  
  
"I can tell."  
  
"Hey, sugar cookies are one of my favorite things, especially after I haven't eaten all day."

"And whose fault is that? They served a meal on the plane and we were in Edmonton long enough to eat, but you refused."  
  
"I'm not blaming anybody. I'm just saying I could eat, that's all."  
  
The snippy attitude stopped and Ben nodded in approval. "Well, good then. Any preferences?"  
  
"Lots, but let's see what we find in the cabinets first. Meanwhile, why don't I start a fire or something?" Ray hugged himself, rubbing his arms and shivering. "I'm kind of cold."  
  
Surprised, Ben frowned. "Really?"  
  
"You're not?"  
  
"I'm comfortable."  
  
"Well, you would be, Mr. I live in the Arctic for fun guy."  
  
Ben chuckled. "Good point. However, why don't I start the fire and you look for the food?"  
  
"You don't trust me to start a fire?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"You didn't have to." Ray didn't argue though, knowing full well that Ben did the building a fire thing a lot better and faster than he ever could. Ray motioned to the fireplace as he got up to see what kind of food they had to work with. "Knock yourself out."  
  
As he stepped to the cabinet over the sink, Ben walked over and kneeled in front of the fireplace. "Alan's already laid the fire."  
  
Ray bit his lower lip, like that was the only thing Alan wanted to lay, but he kept a lid on it, didn't say what he was thinking out loud. Ben had enough to deal with, without having to hear that shit, too. Ray shook himself to clear his head and then opened the cabinet door. Inside were glass jars filled with all kinds of vegetables, green beans, corn, some tomatoes, carrots, and what looked like beets. He hated beets, but he could deal with the other stuff. There were also two jars of preserves, one blackberry, one gooseberry, which sounded weird, but he'd give it a shot if it had enough sugar in it to cover up the gooseberries, whatever the hell they were. He also saw a bag of coffee, some tea, peanut butter, and other stuff Ben would need for cooking. On the counter was a big bowl filled with potatoes and turnips and beside it a small bag of onions. On the other side of the sink was a bowl of about half a dozen brown eggs and a loaf of dark rye bread, bread that looked homemade, like the kind his Nana used to make when he was little. 

Ray's eyes stung and his throat got suddenly tighter. Most of this stuff wasn't store bought. It was food that someone actually grew or canned, homemade, nothing fancy, but the real deal. He leaned forward against the counter, the realization hitting him like a hammer to the back of the head. He wasn't in Chicago anymore. He was in Canada, not some big city where people didn't know shit about the neighbors. He was in Ben's world, where everybody worked together to help out, where people made a guy sugar cookies and honest to god quilts just to be neighborly. The whole thing knocked him off his pins. 

Ben moved beside him quickly, his voice filled with concern, his hand resting on his shoulder. "Ray, are you all right?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Are you ill? Do you need to sit down?"  
  
"We're really here."  
  
"Here?"  
  
"In Canada, you and me, **here** as in running off together, shacked up, not that this is a shack or anything. As cabins go, it's a really nice cabin, not that I've spent a lot of times in cabins. Though, a friend of my dad had one when I was "  
  
"Ray, you're blithering. What's wrong?"

Ray closed his eyes, the words difficult, way harder than they should be. Ben knew him, wouldn't judge him, but it still wasn't easy to admit. "Im scared."  
  
Ben turned Ray in his arms, holding him as he whispered, "You're safe here, Ray. I'll protect you."  
  
"Im not afraid of O'Malley. Well, maybe a little, but that's not it. That's not what I'm talking about."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"It's being here in Canada. This isn't Chicago. Im on your turf now."  
  
"I see."  
  
Ray waited, holding his breath until Ben leaned in and kissed him briefly. When he pulled back, Ben kept Ray pinned against the counter. He lifted Ray's chin and smiled as he met his gaze. "My turf is your turf, Ray."  
  
"No, it's not. Im the duck out of water here."  
  
"You mean fish out of water?"  
  
"Same difference. You know what Im saying."  
  
Ben's grin faded, but his eyes still smiled. "Don't be afraid, Ray. It's a wonderful world, I promise. Besides, we're only here until you've had a chance to heal and we're sure you're safe."  
  
Ray closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Ben's waist. He sighed deeply and rested his head on his shoulder. "Might be longer than that."  
  
Hesitating, Ben waited and then asked, "What exactly are you saying, Ray?"  
  
"I'm saying, that scary as it is to be here, it's scarier to think about going back. I'm in no hurry." 

Ben squeezed him gently and teased his fingers through Ray's hair. "I must confess that I, too, am in no hurry to rush back."  
  
"So we agree that we stay here as long as we need to, right?"  
  
"That was always the plan."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes, Ray. We won't go back until you're ready."  
  
"And if I'm never ready?"  
  
"Then we'll figure something out."  
  
"Like what?" Ben's heavy sigh rumbled through his chest and Ray lifted his head, repeating his question. "Like what, Ben? You're still a Mountie. Even if I resign, give up this whole Vecchio disaster and being a cop, you've still got to go where they tell you. You've still got to work."  
  
"We should talk about this later, when you're more rested."  
  
Ray pulled away and walked over to the sofa in front of the fire, grateful for the heat. He settled down and patted the cushion beside him. "Get over here. I'm not going to rest until we talk about this stuff, at least enough to know what's what."  
  
Reluctantly, Ben settled beside him, but didn't sit back. Instead, he leaned forward, his hands together as he spoke softly. "What's what, Ray, is that I've got some leeway in what I can do if you should decide to resign or take an indefinite leave of absence."  
  
"Yeah? Like what?"  
  
"Like I could ask for a posting here in Yellowknife."  
  
"You could do that?"  
  
"With Alan leaving, there's an opening."  
  
Ray leaned forward in surprise, staring at his partner. He really hadn't expected that, though he probably should've. He'd never really known Ben not to have a backup plan. "They don't have someone lined up already?"  
  
"Well, as you can imagine, it's sometimes difficult to get people to volunteer for such a posting. There's a very high turnover rate in cities like Yellowknife and in the smaller townships just further north. It's not uncommon to remain understaffed until a proper placement can be arranged."  
  
Ray shook his head as he realized something that'd been niggling at the back of his mind ever since he'd found out about Ben buying the cabin. "You've been thinking about this for a while. This isn't new just because of me being a target."  
  
"No, it's not new. I have been thinking about it since Christmas."  
  
"How come you didn't mention it?"  
  
Ben sat back, his words still just above a whisper. "It was just a dream, Ray. While you were undercover, I never really thought it might come to fruition."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Now, I think it's not so much a dream as a viable option."  
  
"And how does that make you feel, the idea of working here and me quitting the force?"  
  
"Hopeful."  
  
"Of what?"  
  
Ben reached over and took Ray's left hand, running his fingers over the gold band on his ring finger. "Our time together has been difficult, Ray, partly because of what happened to you, but also because of this assignment. Here we have a much better chance of working through our problems."  
  
"You don't think we can do that back in Chicago?"  
  
Eyes still down, fingers still roaming over Ray's hand, Ben shrugged. "Perhaps, but I'm not sure."

But Ray was sure, more sure than ever that if he wanted to keep Ben, he had to make some changes, big ones. It wasnt really about Chicago or Canada as much as it was about how well Ray could get a handle on all the shit he carried around and dumped all over Ben most days. "Sure you are, Ben. You think that if we don't move here, if I don't quit and get myself together, that we'll end up like me and Stella, splitsville, donesky, no more duet, right?"  
  
Ben finally lifted his head, his eyes misted. "I'm sorry, Ray, but you're not the only one who gets scared sometimes. I see the toll the job has taken on both your body and your spirit and it frightens me more than I like to admit. I dont want to lose you. I'll do anything to stop that, including moving here or resigning if I have to. I won't lose you without a fight."  
  
Ray snorted and shook his head. "You really are something, you know that?"  
  
"Something?"  
  
Leaning in closer, Ray cupped Ben's face, his voice firm. "You're not going to lose me, not a chance. Cop or no cop, you're stuck with me. As for giving up being a Mountie, no way. We'll figure something out. Right now, let's forget about food and just go to bed."  
  
"We should unpack and I need to see about Diefenbaker."  
  
"Fuck the bags and the wolf, Ben. Let's go to bed." 

Ray growled a little, his voice suddenly husky and inviting. Ben finally got the message. "Ah, I see. You mean bed as in "  
  
"Bed, Ben, B_E_D, bed, as in a little rolling around in the hay kind of bed."  
  
"In the hay, Ray?"  
  
Ray dropped his forehead against Ben's and laughed, "God, you drive me crazy."  
  
"But it's a good crazy, correct?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it is." Ray lifted his head and sneaked a kiss before standing up, dragging Ben with him towards the bed. He pulled back the blanket and sat down on the edge of the mattress. As Ray leaned over to take off his boots, a scratching noise came from the door. "Dief's home."  
  
"So he is." Ignoring the sounds, Ben kneeled and helped Ray with his boots, his eyes dark with arousal, his face flushed.  
  
Ray fell back across the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as Ben stood. Slowly, Ben unbuttoned his flannel shirt, his eyes never leaving Ray's. "You going to let him in or what?"  
  
Lips pursed, Ben smiled. "Or what, I should think."  
  
"Dirty dog."  
  
"Im quite clean, I assure you. I've always prided myself in my personal hygiene." Ray laughed out loud as he heard Dief woof in frustration at the unanswered door and then thump down hard as he settled on the porch for the duration. Ben continued to get naked in a hurry. Then he pulled the netting down around the bed and climbed in beside Ray. "Would you like me to help you with the removal of your clothes, Ray?"  
  
Gazing at Ben beside him turned Ray on in a hurry. The smooth, pale flesh, the finely toned muscles, the dick already erect and shiny all made Ray more than willing to comply even though his own body ached in all the wrong places. His left arm and right leg both hurt, throbbed even, but not enough to stop him from doing this, from making sure Ben understood how much he cared and loved him. "You're beautiful, you know that?"  
  
Ben did the whole body blush thing, his skin all pink in a matter of seconds, something that made Ray even harder. "You're beautiful, too, Ray."  
  
"Not the way you are, not really **beautiful** beautiful, like picture book handsome. I dont tell you that enough, that you're beautiful, and I'm not just talking about how you look, though that turns my crank like you wouldn't believe." Before Ben spoke, Ray put a finger to his lips and shushed. "Let me finish. You're beautiful through and through. There aren't a lot of people who'd do the stuff you do, put up with what you put up with and still love me like you do. You're something else. I just want you to know I appreciate you even though I don't always say it or show it."  
  
"You give me too much credit, Ray."  
  
"You dont give yourself enough credit."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"It is, but it doesn't matter right now. We'll fight about that later. Right now, I want you to just lie back and let me do something."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
Ray smirked, and then reached over to fondle Ben's dick and balls with his right hand. The healthy twitch in his hand and the hitch in the breathing let him know he was on the right track. "Close your eyes and relax. Let me surprise ya."

Nodding, Ben lay back against the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut. "Surprise away, Ray."  
  
Ray shifted on the bed, spreading Ben's legs as he positioned himself between them. He leaned forward, holding the dick in one hand while he flicked the tip with his tongue. Ben gasped, but said nothing, his body already covered with a sheen of sweat. The veins on the dick throbbed, the heat burning Ray's palm. He opened his mouth wider and took in the crown, sucking gently. With his other hand, Ray teased his fingers between Ben's cheeks and found the tight pucker. Ben panted as he shoved his hips up, forcing his dick further into Ray's mouth. Fingering Ben's hole, Ray used his tongue to increase the pressure and within a matter of seconds and a few more thrusts, Ben went off, bitter fluid flooding Ray's mouth. Ben jerked several times as he shouted out Ray's name over and over, the way he did when he came, the way Ray loved hearing. Then Ben collapsed, his head back, his eyes still closed as he recovered slowly.

Ray wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then stood up. He got naked and then climbed back in beside Ben. He ignored the bandages on his left arm and all the scars he carried. Instead, he curled up against Ben before reaching down to cover them both with the blanket and the quilt made by the hands of the woman married to the man who Ray didn't want to think about for fear of ruining the moment.

After a few minutes, Ben's breathing slowed to normal and he turned on his side. He kissed Ray's cheek before he whispered. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
"Would you please allow me return the favor?"  
  
"In the morning, maybe. Right now I just want to get some sleep, maybe think about all the stuff you said. It's a lot to get my head around."  
  
"Yes, it is. I apologize."  
  
"Nothing to apologize for."  
  
"I should've said something sooner."

"Yeah, well, maybe I should've thought of it first. Doesn't matter. What matters is that we're here now and we'll work it out."  
  
Ben snuggled up next to Ray and let Ray hold him, his head resting on Ray's chest. "I love you."  
  
"Yeah, same here. Now, go to sleep. You haven't had a good night's rest for ages."  
  
"I should get up and stand guard just in case someone comes." The words tickled Ray's skin, Ben's breath warm and tingly.  
  
"Dief's outside. He'll let us know if anybody comes within a mile of the place."  
  
"He really is a good watchdog."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, he is, so take advantage and go to sleep."  
  
Without further protest, Ben relaxed even more in Ray's arms. After a few minutes, Ray knew that his partner finally slept, finally trusted him and Dief enough to do the job he'd taken on when O'Malley first put out the contract on Ray's life just a week or so ago. Ray waited another half hour before he sneaked out of bed to let the wolf inside and find that hunting rifle he knew Ben had stashed away somewhere he thought Ray couldn't see it.  


* * *

Ray's grip tightened as he jerked to attention, Ben's hand wrapped around the barrel of the rifle resting in his lap. "Ray, you shouldn't be sleeping with a loaded weapon. It's dangerous."  
  
"I wasn't sleeping."  
  
Ben cocked his head in amusement. "You weren't sleeping?"  
  
"Just resting my eyes."  
  
"Ah, I see." Ben finished retrieving the gun from Ray, automatically checking the safety before putting it in the corner closest to the door. He said nothing about Ray having it in the first place, nothing about keeping it secret anymore. They both knew they might need protection for any wannabe killer who might cross the border and come their way, so no more games or secrets. "How's your eye this morning?"  
  
Ray touched the area just above his left eye and blinked several times. "The eye's fine and I can see okay. It's just a little bit itchy where the stitches are."  
  
"That's good then. You should go back to bed and get some sleep. I'll take the next shift." Already dressed, Ben leaned down and added another log to the fire before coming to sit beside him on the sofa. Diefenbaker still lay curled on the rug, his sharp, wolfie eyes only half-open as he tracked Ben's movements.  
  
"I didn't even hear you get up. Some guard I am."  
  
"You weren't watching for me. You were watching for strangers. Diefenbaker would let you know if anyone approached the cabin."  
  
"That's true."  
  
"Besides, I tried to be particularly quiet."  
  
"You were doing the sneaky Mountie thing. No wonder I didn't hear ya."  
  
"Sneaky Mountie thing?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, you sneak around, all sly and not making a peep. You're good at that, better than me even."  
  
"Why thank you, Ray, but I don't mean to be furtive or deceitful in any way. I just thought your eyes needed more rest, as it were."  
  
Ray snorted at the joke. Leave it to Ben to poke fun at him being such a lame guard. "Good thing you're not some scumbag or my ass would be cooked."  
  
Instead of countering, Ben just repeated his earlier statement. "You should go to bed, Ray. It's still quite early."

"How early?"

"Four."

"Four as in four in the morning?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Wow, that's wild. You know it never got really **dark** dark, just barely dark, and then it was light again."  
  
"Yes, I know. The twilight here isn't quite the same as other places during the summer."  
  
"No kidding. It's cool though, kind of nice even. I had to go to the can and I didn't even need to take a flashlight or anything."  
  
Ben's relaxed expression tightened. "I hope you took the precaution of taking Diefenbaker with you."  
  
"I did, thanks. I might be paranoid, but better safe than sorry. We underestimated O'Malley before and I almost got my head blown off. It's not going to happen again if I can help it." Ray scratched a bite on his right arm. "Damn mosquitoes got me a couple of times, too, but not as bad as they could've. That lemony stuff you made works pretty good."  
  
"Lemon balm and lemon verbena mixed in a combination of water and a natural carrier oil usually works quite well. I also added a little mint and pennyroyal with just a touch of lavender. It can be used either as a spray or in a waxy base as an ointment. I prefer it to most of the commercial brands of repellants as it's completely non-toxic."  
  
"For us, yeah, but I hope it's toxic as hell for those damn blood-suckers."  
  
"Not really toxic per se, but fairly effective in keeping them from biting."  
  
Remembering the night before, Ray ran a finger over his lower lip. "It doesn't taste bad, either, but it makes my lips tingle."  
  
Ben blushed as he tugged his ear. "Ah, well, that's to be expected."  
  
"But on your dick? Isn't that like overkill or something?"  
  
Without hesitation or embarrassment, Ben asked, "Have you ever had an insect bite on your penis, Ray?"  
  
"No, but "  
  
"Then I recommend using the repellant generously over your whole body while we're here during the summer season."

Ray got the message. "Because you never know when you might get naked, right?"  
  
"Or when a flea or tick might want to get personal."  
  
Grimacing at the image of a tick on his privates, Ray squeezed his eyes shut. "Ew. Don't even want to think about it. We have to worry about ticks, too?"  
  
"Indeed, we do, Ray. In fact, as a matter of course, we should do routine body checks every night, especially if we've been in the woods or near the woodpile."  
  
"Body checks? For ticks? How gross is that?"  
  
"One most often doesn't feel when a tick attaches, Ray. The tick secretes a special enzyme that anesthetizes the area before it embeds its head under the skin in order to feed. That in itself would be of no real consequence. However, many ticks carry diseases. Lyme's disease is of particular concern since its impact can be quite devastating should it go untreated."  
  
Ray held up a hand. "Hold up, stop. I don't want to hear any more about ticks and shit, okay?"  
  
"Im just saying "  
  
"Ben, I mean it, cut it out. You can do all the body checks you want, anytime, any place." Ray shuddered, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried not to think of some tick sneaking in where it had no right to be.

Scooting closer, Ben drew Ray into his arms. "What about now, Ray? Would you care for a quick body check? It would be purely as a precaution."  
  
Ray caught right on to what Ben really wanted and it had nothing to do with bugs and other creepy crawlers. "Doesn't have to be quick. I could do slow, definitely thorough."  
  
Ben kissed his temple before he whispered, "I assure you, Im always quite thorough."

"That's a fact. Just promise me if you find a tick, you'll get it off fast, okay? You know me, I kind of panic sometimes."  
  
Fingering Ray's hair, Ben kissed him again, more slowly. "No need for panic, Ray. I'll show the dastardly creature no mercy."  
  
Melting under the weight of the kisses, Ray's dick woke up all achy and needy. It'd been a long time since he'd really wanted to do something besides please Ben. "Let's go to bed. This whole body check deal is a turn on."  
  
Ben chuckled against him, his tongue licking up along Ray's neck. "For me as well."  
  
"Good, that's good. We're on the same page here."

They both stood up together, but with Ben still licking and kissing like crazy like some starved Mountie who hadn't eaten in a million years. Ray didn't mind, kind of liked it, enjoyed the way Ben cut loose now that they were alone, a million miles from nowhere. Doing body checks sounded like a great way to get their lives back on track, or at least start down the right trail for a change.

* * *

Ray opened his eyes slowly as the aroma of fresh coffee filled the cabin. Ben stood by the door drinking his tea, grinning back at him with a smile that lit up the place. Welcome to Canada. What a great way to start the day. "Good morning, Ray."  
  
"Morning, Mr. Sunshine."  
  
"Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Better than usual, yeah. Of course, you wearing me out beforehand helped."  
  
"Then I shall certainly remember the technique for the future."  
  
Ray snorted and rolled over on his back, remembering the wonderful way that Ben licked him all over until he came harder than he had in ages. He could handle that, wanted to handle it and keep coming back for more until Ben's tongue gave out, which wasn't likely to happen anytime soon apparently. Nothing suited him more than a Mountie with that mighty tongue that made him feel like nobody's business from head to toe. "Yeah, you do that." Stretching, Ray ignored the dull ache in his injured left arm and put his right one behind his head. "I smell coffee."  
  
"Indeed you do, Ray. Would you like a cup?"  
  
"Sounds good, but I'll get it in a minute. I have to go to the can first."  
  
Ben's smile faded, but he nodded. "I'll stand watch."  
  
"I figured. You know we can't keep this up, right, just the two of us?"

Ben did a quick ear tug. "Actually, I've been thinking of asking Chris Frame to help."  
  
"Chris? Why, because he's an ex-cop?"  
  
"That and because he does private security work. I thought we might go into town later for supplies and possibly stop by to see if his services are available at the moment."  
  
Ray wasn't thrilled with the idea of drawing more people into their business, but he didn't really see much choice. No way could he and Ben keep it up for however fucking long this mess might continue. They needed backup and, though he didn't know them that well, he got a good vibe off Frame and his partner. He had to go with his instincts. It'd kept him alive so far, might as well keep at it.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Then you don't mind asking him for help?"

"Sure I mind. I mind the whole damn deal, but there's not much we can do about it except play the lousy hand we got dealt, go with the flow, make the best of things, and all that shit. I'm all about being flexible these days."  
  
Ben kept his opinion about Ray's flexibility to himself and sipped his tea with a big smile. It was good to see that again, that big old Mountie, I'm good with the world grin, even if it wouldn't last long. The worry lingered in Ben's eyes and until the thing with O'Malley got resolved, there wasn't much Ray could do about it.

As Ray sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, he took a deep breath and then grabbed his shorts. He pushed the netting out of the way and got a good whiff of himself. He wrinkled his nose as he complained. "I think I need a bath, too. I stink."  
  
"I've heated some water. You can wash off when you get back."  
  
Even though he hadn't heard a sound while he was sleeping, Ray didn't have to ask if Ben had cleaned up yet. He could see the freshly shaved face and the combed hair. Decked out in jeans and a white T-shirt, Ben looked right at home, like he belonged here, which he did. Ray slipped on his jeans and then his boots, without bothering with socks and without tying the laces. A little chilly, he grabbed the flannel shirt Ben wore the night before and put it on. It still smelled of his partner and Ray liked that, loved the way that unique scent just sort of lingered on his clothes, on his hair and skin. Just the hint of Ben's smell made him all tingly. 

As he stepped to the doorway, he leaned in and kissed Ben good morning. Ben returned the favor and then whispered, "I love you, Ray."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"It makes me happy that you're here, that we're here."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Ben's face flushed a bit darker and he hurried his words to explain, "I mean, that is to say, I'm not happy that we had to come because of the current situation, but I am happy that we're here together."  
  
"I know what you mean. Don't get bent out of shape. You feel what you feel. You're home. Nothing to feel guilty about."  
  
Relaxing, Ben nodded with gratitude. "Thank you, Ray. I was afraid you might think me rather selfish for being so happy."

"Selfish? You?" Ray wrapped his arms around Ben's middle and shook his head. "If anybody's selfish, it's me. I mean, I don't spend enough time thinking about what all this mess does to you."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"What if things were reversed? What if you were the one who got hurt or was a target? I'd be crazier than shit, crazier than I am now, all twisted up, half out of my head trying to make sure you were protected. You're worse than I am about the protecting thing, so I figure none of this is easy for you."  
  
"No, it's not easy. I've been desperately working on plans to make sure you're safe."  
  
"I've got no doubt about that. I trust you. If I'm not safe with you, then I might as well give up." Ray kissed him again and then pulled away. "Now, it's time for a quick pit stop."

Ray walked outside and onto the porch, amazed at the brightness of the sun, by the incredible blue skies, and the vast range of forest. The view was pretty spectacular, better than one of those big picture books a guy saw at Borders or at the library. Who knew all that snow in the winter covered up all that good stuff? He held out his hands and framed off a section. Ben stepped up behind him. "Ray?"  
  
"Im thinking as soon as we eat, I want to get out the camera, get some pictures of this. It's great."  
  
"And it's ours."  
  
Ray turned, frowning. "What do you mean, ours?"  
  
"I mean, it goes with the cabin. Of course, philosophically speaking, no one really **owns** the land, but as far as legalities go, we do."  
  
Shaking his head in disbelief, Ray once again scanned the horizon. "You're saying all this land was part of the deal?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How much land are we talking about here?"  
  
"As far as you can see. I was hoping we might walk the property line some time while we're here. It's really quite breathtaking."  
  
"I don't get it."  
  
"Get what?"  
  
"All of it, how come Alan sold it and how you could afford it. I know what you make, Ben, and you don't make enough for all this, even with your penny-pinching ways."

"Penny-pinching ways?"  
  
"You know what I'm saying." Before Ben spoke, Ray held up a finger. "Hold it. I've got to go. When I get back, I want the whole story. I let it go before, but now I want the details."  
  
"I've told you the details."  
  
"Don't give me that. I want the whole picture, the whole shebang. You bought a chunk of paradise here and I want to know how that happened without me knowing about it."

"I assure you the deal was completely above board, nothing untoward."

Ray didnt argue, just headed off the porch, Ben watching his back. He hurried through relieving himself and then zipped up fast. He no sooner got out of the outhouse when he saw Dief standing out on the porch and Ben with the rifle. Then he heard it, a car coming down the long driveway. "Who the hell is that?"  
  
"Im not sure." After a few seconds, Ben added, "Ah."  
  
"Ah, what?"  
  
"I do believe we have our first visitors, Ray." Ben relaxed and put the safety back on before putting the rifle inside the door of the cabin. Diefenbaker yipped in apparent relief and sat down, not ready to go anywhere, but no longer looking like he'd tear throats out, either.  
  
"Can you see who it is yet?"  
  
Ben answered just as the Jeep pulled in beside their borrowed one. "I believe it's Chris Frame and Eddie."  
  
"Yeah? What are they doing here?"  
  
"I suppose you should wait and ask them. Though I must admit, this is rather fortuitous."

"Yeah, saves us from having to drop in to start the party later on." Ray ran a hand through his hair, more than a little off kilter. First Ben drops the bomb about the whole owning the land thing and now they had neighbors banging at their door before coffee and before he could even wash the stink off his skin.  
  
Eddie Banks, the shorter of the pair, got out first and waved. Talk about a smile that woke up the neighborhood. The guy showed off some seriously bright dental work. He wore his long, dark curly hair tied at the back of his neck. The two gold loops in his left ear stood out against the tanned skin. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt, he looked like a throwback to the sixties. All he needed was some love beads and a peace sign or something. Eddie waved as he greeted them. "Welcome to Canada, you guys. We would've called first, but we don't have your cell phone number. We heard you just got in yesterday, so we just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing."  
  
Ben gave the young man a matching smile. "Things are going quite well actually. Come inside. We have coffee and tea made. I was just about to make breakfast."  
  
Chris Frame got out of the driver's side of the vehicle, looking even more serious than usual, which was pretty damn grim. Even without his glasses, Ray wouldn't have missed that this guy used to be a cop. The icy blue eyes scoped out the place, every corner scanned as he walked up to the porch, Eddie right beside him. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt stretched over well-defined muscles. A dark baseball cap covered up the buzz cut. Ray never saw such a mismatched pair in his life, but then he figured he shouldnt throw stones considering what he and Ben might look like to other people. Mismatched wouldn't come close. 

Chris stepped on the porch just a few steps behind his partner. He studied Ray just a moment, his head cocked. "So, what's the other guy look like?"  
  
Eddie elbowed Chris in the midsection. "God, way to be subtle, man."  
  
Touching his face, the cuts rough against his fingertips, Ray shrugged. "The other guy's in jail."  
  
Chris nodded his approval, but still didnt crack a smile. "Good."

Eddie shook his head in mock frustration and handed a white bakery box to Ben. "I can't take this guy anywhere. Here, I picked up some doughnuts and bagels from Mimi's place. She said to get your asses to town for a free meal as soon as you get settled in."  
  
Ray fondly remembered the great lady who'd treated them so well before. "How's she doing?"  
  
"She's fine. Hangin' in there like the rest of us." Eddie looked over at Ben and prompted, "So, you said something about coffee and tea?"  
  
Ben motioned for them to enter the cabin. "So I did. Please, join us."  
  
The men went inside first and Ray touched Ben's elbow. "Don't think this gets you off the hook, buddy. I'm still thinking about the bomb you dropped about the land."  
  
"Understood. Meanwhile, we have guests. Perhaps you should wash up while I fix the drinks."  
  
"Sure, okay, just don't think we're done with this."  
  
"It never crossed my mind, Ray."  
  
Ray went inside and washed his hands, all the time listening to Ben talking to their visitors, right at home, not the least bit thrown off by the idea that Ray might chew his ass off when they left.

* * *

Never one to eat much breakfast, Ray broke with tradition and washed down two doughnuts before Ben even sat down to eat the first bagel. Ray stopped as he reached for a third when he realized everyone was staring at him. "What?"  
  
Eddie laughed. "Hungry, man?"  
  
"Starved. You?"  
  
"Not as much as you, apparently."  
  
Shrugging, Ray picked up his doughnut and let Ben fill his coffee cup again. "I didn't eat much yesterday."  
  
Everyone took that for what it was worth and resumed eating. Ben finally sat down and picked up a bagel. He ate it plain, with no cream cheese or any jellies, while Eddie ate his smothered with a little of both. Chris finished off his first doughnut and sipped black coffee. After a few moments of silence, Chris cleared his throat. "So, Fraser, you expecting trouble?"

Ray stilled and glanced first at Chris and then Ben, knowing they'd just talked about hiring the guy, but Chris was good, damn good. He knew trouble was up without even a phone call. Ray kept his mouth shut and let Ben handle the deal.  
  
Eddie's eyes widened. "Chris, man, what kind of question is that?"

"I was just asking because Fraser here was holding a rifle aimed in our direction when we drove up. I don't think he was going hunting, so, I ask again, are you two expecting trouble?"

Unfazed, Fraser sat back, meeting Chris's stare. He took an extra beat to answer, but when he did, he leaned in, his hands wrapped around his tea mug. "I was just being cautious."  
  
"Because?"  
  
Ray went with his gut, his instinct, that Chris was a stand up guy, that he could be trusted with vital information. He gave Ben the nod of approval before his partner spoke. "It's a long story, the details of which aren't really important at this juncture. However, I need you to understand that what I'm about to tell you could put you and your partner at risk as well. Are you willing to take that responsibility?"  
  
Chris exchanged a quick glace with Eddie and then they both nodded in agreement. Chris asked, "Does it have something to do with the fact that Ray's all beat up again?"  
  
"Ray's lucky to be alive."  
  
Ray put his coffee cup down, his stomach suddenly uneasy. He took a deep breath, forcing away the image of that shotgun blast through his car window. "You've got that right. Some guy tried to blow my head off."

Chris stared at him an extra moment. "How'd he miss?"  
  
"Like Ben said, I'm lucky."  
  
"Like you were lucky last time?"  
  
Ray closed his eyes, pushing away the gut-wrenching images of Clooney's brutal attack. His head swam and he could hardly catch his breath. He stood up in a hurry, knocking back the chair. "I've got to go."  
  
"Ray?"  
  
He held up a hand, holding himself in check, but just barely. "No, you stay here. I just need some air. You tell him what you want, what you need to, but I can't hear it, okay? I'm not ready to just talk about this shit, all casual over breakfast. I just can't, Ben. I **can't**."

Ben remained seated and then nodded. "Understood, but take the rifle with you."  
  
Relieved that Ben got it, knew he needed some space, Ray picked up the gun. He swallowed hard before he managed to form more words. "Sorry." Ray turned his attention to the wolf. "Dief, let's go."  
  
The wolf got up and followed him out the door. Behind him, Ray heard Ben start in with a story he knew all too well. Walking faster, Dief at his side, he headed to the forest, almost wishing something or someone would give him an excuse to pull the fucking trigger.

* * *

His own good humor gone, Ben explained the situation to their guests. "Ray's been through what could only be considered a horrendous experience."  
  
Chris nodded, his face grave again. "I get that. I sort of figured from the stuff he said at Christmas that he was seriously hurt in some way, not just physically, but deep down where it really matters. I don't need all the gruesome details, but is the latest attack related to that?"  
  
"To some degree, yes. The man who attacked him before Christmas was killed, but the man who sent men to assassinate him this time used to be that man's partner."

Eddie ran a hand over his hair, his voice strained. "This is crazy, man. I dont understand. I mean, I know Ray's a cop, right, but this all sounds like some kind of mob movie. I thought the bad guys weren't supposed to come after cops."  
  
"Most criminals don't have the hubris of this man. He saw Ray as a threat, so he decided to have him killed. He failed. We left Chicago before he had a chance to try again."  
  
Chris's frown deepened. "But Ray said the man who attacked him was in jail."  
  
"He is, as is the man who commissioned the act. They're both being held by the FBI."

Eddie swallowed hard and hissed, "FBI? Jesus. What's going on? Are you guys working for the feds?"  
  
"I can't really talk about that. Suffice it to say, that the situation is extremely complicated. Ray isn't simply a detective. He's much more than that, thus, the reason O'Malley wants him dead."  
  
"O'Malley?" Chris sat up straighter, even more alert. "Sean O'Malley?"  
  
Ben cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "You know Sean O'Malley?"  
  
"Out of Chicago, head of every crime scene that's not cornered by the mob. He even supplies guns to the gang kids from what I've heard. You're saying this is the guy who wants Ray dead?"  
  
"The very one, yes."  
  
"Damn."  
  
Eddie echoed that sentiment. "Double damn."  
  
"Precisely."  
  
Eddie shook his head in confusion. "But I don't get it. If the FBI has this O'Malley guy behind bars, isn't everything okay?"  
  
Chris explained, "Behind bars or not, Doc, the guy's got a long reach. He can make a phone call and make a guy disappear."  
  
"But, man, this is crazy. Why doesn't the FBI have Ray under lock and key to keep him safe if this guy's so dangerous?"  
  
Ben crossed his arms, remembering the sad efforts of the federal authorities. He tried to keep his voice neutral, but didn't manage. "The operation to bring down O'Malley was compromised and poorly handled. Ray was shot under their surveillance. They were more concerned with capturing O'Malley than protecting Ray. I brought him here because I feared for his life in Chicago."  
  
Chris snorted. "Fed bastards probably used him as bait. Am I right?"

"Indeed. Now, while we've been told by an inside source that O'Malley has cancelled any attempts on Ray's life, I don't want to take any chances. I dont trust the man."

"And you shouldn't."  
  
"Man, this sucks." Eddie shook his head, but then turned his attention to Ben. "Listen, maybe I should go talk to Ray. He seemed really upset."  
  
Fraser's voice softened as he recognized the genuine concern in the young man's face. "He was upset, but I doubt your talking to him about it will help. I respect his privacy. He's dealing with a lot of personal issues."  
  
"Been there." Chris rubbed his chin and took a deep breath. "Okay, this is how I see it. While O'Malley might have called off the hit like your source says, there's no guarantee. So, we'll work on the assumption that Ray could be a target. You can't be with him every second and as messed up as he is right now, he's not going to be much good for himself." 

"You'd be messed up, too, if you'd been through all this shit, man. Give the guy a break. **Jesus**."  
  
"That's what I'm doing, Doc." Chris reached over and took his lover's hand and squeezed. "I been where he is, burned out and hurting. You **know** that."

"Yeah, man, I do. That's why we have to do something."  
  
"I will, you won't. You're going to stay out of this."  
  
"To hell with that. You help, I help. We're partners, remember? Don't you dare try to pull that stay home and out of trouble bullshit, okay?"  
  
Before Chris could object, Ben cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, please. We were talking about how best to protect Ray."  
  
Both men reacted quickly, Eddie's eyes still fierce and determined, Chris shrugging in acceptance that the younger man was, as Ray would put it, coming along for the ride. Eddie spoke first. "So, what do you need from us?"  
  
"At Christmas, Chris mentioned he occasionally did security work."  
  
"Yeah, I do, and I see where you're going. I can make sure that Ray's got a bodyguard even when you and the wolf have other stuff you've got to do."  
  
"I've considered that, yes, and, however reluctantly, Ray has agreed to our hiring you."

Chris shook his head, his jaw tight and determined. "There's no hiring necessary." 

"I insist on paying for your services, Chris. This could be a rather timely investment. We're not sure how long we'll be here."  
  
"Doesn't matter. You're not paying me a dime."  
  
"May I ask why not?"  
  
"Two reasons."  
  
"Which are?"  
  
"Ray's a cop, I was cop. Professional courtesy."  
  
Reluctantly, Ben nodded and rubbed his left eyebrow before he asked, "And the second reason?"  
  
"I don't know O'Malley personally, but I've known men like him, men who thought they ran the world and killed people, good people. I quit the force because of something one of those men did. I came here with Eddie to start a new life. I'm not planning on letting some scumbag ruin it by coming here and killing another good guy. Enough of that shit happens in the States. We don't need it here." Chris leaned in, his icy blue eyes staring at Ben, challenging him to dare say no to his offer. "So, we got a deal or not? I help you keep Ray alive as a friend and fellow cop and you dont offer to pay me again, okay?"

"That's a very generous offer."  
  
"Deal or not, Fraser?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
"Good man."  
  
"You might not think so when I tell you, I know that Ray's going to be rather disgruntled with any plan that entails you or anyone else to be his protector."

"Yeah, well, I married Eddie, so I'm used to it."  
  
Eddie smacked him in the arm, but kept his voice teasing. "Hey, I'm not the one who qualifies for disgruntled and pissy, man."  
  
"Riiight."  
  
Ben chuckled and both men looked over at him. Eddie said, "What?"  
  
"I was just thinking that Ray and I have had similar discussions."  
  
Eddie grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, well, you get married to a guy and **then** you find out what a pain he can be."  
  
"But I'm your pain, babe."

More serious, Eddie nodded with a smile and took his partner's hand again. "Yeah, you are, Mr. Macho. Just cut the crap about me staying out of this and we'll be fine. Got it?"

"Got it, Doc, like you'd ever do as you're told anyway."  
  
"Damn straight."  
  
"Well, not exactly straight, babe."  
  
They both chuckled, laughing at a private joke almost as if they'd forgotten Ben's presence. Ben cleared his throat and got down to more serious business. "I think we should discuss the details of our plan."  
  
Chris leaned over and gave Eddie a quick peck on the cheek before he turned back to Ben. "It's your show, Fraser. You lay it out and I'll see how it flies."  
  
"How it flies?"  
  
"How it works. We'll see how your plan and my plan fit together and smooth out any rough edges."  
  
Ben nodded, laying out his ideas, approving of Chris's insightful suggestions for improvement. Meanwhile, in the back of his mind, he worried about Ray out in the woods and away from his side for too long. He had faith in Diefenbaker and in Ray himself, but fear niggled at him, made him less able to focus than he wanted.  
  
Chris picked up on his concern as they were finishing up. "He's been gone for a while now."  
  
Eddie piped in. "Im sure he's okay."  
  
Standing up, Ben stepped to the door and looked out. He stretched his senses as far as he could, but saw no sign of Ray or the wolf, nor could he hear anything that would indicate his arrival anytime soon. He turned his attention back to the men at the table. "Perhaps, I should go find him. He doesn't know the woods here yet."  
  
Chris and Eddie both got up and nodded. Chris moved next to Ben. "He's fine, Fraser, probably just enjoying the scenery. Still, I don't like the idea of him out there alone for too long. We'll be back this afternoon. I want to talk to a few people about rearranging my schedule for the next few weeks. Then we'll make some more plans, okay?"  
  
Ben shook both men's hands. "Thank you."  
  
"Not a problem, man. Tell Ray we'll see him later, okay?"  
  
"I will, Eddie." 

By the time they drove away, Ben already had his knife in his boot and was heading down the path to find Ray. It wasn't hard. He'd left a trail a blind man could follow. Ben hurried a little faster to find the man he loved, a man who had little or no experience with the woods, something Ben planned to correct as soon as possible.

* * *

Ray sat on a long, flat rock and stared out across the wide stream. On the other side near the bank, a mama duck and about five little ducklings quacked as they swam around, diving for bugs and whatever else ducks ate. Dragonflies and other insects buzzed around, but none settled or tried to take a bite of one of Chicago's finest. In the distance birds chirped, their bright songs mixed in with the squawk of an eagle overhead. The air smelled fresh and clean, no gas fumes or tar, nothing to remind him of Chicago during the summer. A slight breeze cooled Ray's skin despite the bright sun and the slowly climbing temperatures. All-in-all, it was one hell of a beautiful day. He should've felt great, but couldn't quite get there.

Leaning forward, Ray put the rifle down and then closed his eyes. Dief woofed beside him, but he stayed still to just listen. From behind he heard the shift of the brush and Ben's worried voice. "Ray?"  
  
"It's peaceful out here."  
  
"Yes, it is." Ben sat next to him on the rock, his arm across Ray's shoulders. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Not really, but I'm better."  
  
"I should've been more sensitive. I should've realized that it was too soon "  
  
"Shut up, okay?" Ben stopped talking, but the arm stayed put. He hugged Ray gently and waited. After a few moments, Ray opened his eyes and turned his head. Then he pecked Ben's cheek with a quick kiss. "Thanks."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For covering my ass when I freak out."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"No, listen. I'm okay right now. It's nice out here, but back there in the cabin, it's like it all came rushing back."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes. It's all still too fresh."  
  
"It's been months."  
  
"Since the attack by Clooney, yes, but recent events have, I'm sure, intensified your trauma and brought to the surface a lot of the unresolved issues."  
  
"You could say that, yeah. Still, it's no excuse for leaving you in the lurch to deal with all this by yourself. It's my life we're talking about, and it's me who should stop being such a big baby and deal with it."  
  
"Ray "

"Don't say anything." Ray stood up and took several steps closer to the stream before shoving his hands into his jean's pockets. He kept his back to Ben as he spoke quietly. "Just listen, okay?"  
  
Ben stopped any protest. "I'm listening."

After a long silence, Ray finally confessed. "I'm scared, but not about what you think, not about O'Malley and some hit man. I mean, sure, that's part of it, but not the biggest part."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"I can't live like this."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like this, like I'm some kind of target all the time. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder, of dealing with this whole mess. Fuck it. Fuck O'Malley. I want to be able to take a deep breath and not worry about it being my last." He waved an arm around at the magnificent scenery, his voice suddenly more strained. "I mean, look at this place. It's beautiful and wild and there's no fucking reason on earth that we shouldn't be able to relax and enjoy it. I mean, we fucking deserve a little peace of mind, you and me. We shouldn't have to worry about getting gunned down in our sleep or while we're just taking it all in. How is that fair? It's not. It's not fair and it's not right and I'm sick to death of all this shit."  
  
Ben remained calm as he stood up and stepped closer. He put a hand on Ray's arm as he whispered, "Ray, it is a beautiful place, and someday, someday soon, we will, indeed, be able to relax and enjoy it."  
  
"But not yet?"  
  
"No, not completely, but soon. I promise this won't go on forever."  
  
Ray lifted his head to face his partner, his eyes stinging. "You can't promise that. Not even you can do that."  
  
"I can and I do."  
  
"Don't."  
  
"Don't what, promise to protect you?"  
  
"No, promise me a future. You don't have some crystal ball stashed away somewhere in those pumpkin pants of yours. Not even you can tell the future."  
  
"No, but I can assure you that O'Malley's power will soon wane and we'll be free to go on with out lives without the extra precautions. For now we must endure, but it won't be forever."  
  
Ray dropped his forehead to rest on Ben's shoulder. "I'm so tired, Ben."  
  
Ben's arms went around him and drew him closer. "I know."

They stayed that way a long time, seemed like forever. Finally, Ray lifted his head enough for Ben to steal a quick kiss. Ray fought the urge to just cry, to give up all restraint and let go. Instead, he touched Ben's face tenderly and returned the kiss, taking his time and then pulling away. "Let's sit back down for a minute before we go back."  
  
Taking Ray's lead, Ben sat beside him on the rock, curved just right to fit both their bottoms. They still held hands as Ray asked, "So, you going to finally tell me about how we got this place, the whole story, not just what you think won't set me off?"  
  
Ben squeezed his hand as he explained, "As you know, my father left me quite a large parcel of land much further north."  
  
Ray closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "Please don't tell me you sold it."  
  
"I did, yes."  
  
"Shit, Ben. You loved that place."  
  
"I did. I still do. However, to actually live there would prove very difficult considering its remote location, our situation, and the fact that Victoria burned down the main cabin."  
  
"But we could've rebuilt it, lived in the shed until it was done."  
  
"Eventually, perhaps, but for now it was much more practical to sell it and buy this place instead."

"I wish you'd asked me first."  
  
"You would've resisted."  
  
"Hell, yes, I would've resisted. That's the point."  
  
"I wanted us to have a place together, Ray, a place like this. When the opportunity arose, I took it. Actually, if I believed in such things, I'd say fates conspired for it to happen."  
  
"What's that mean?"  
  
"It means that when Alan first offered the land, I didn't know if I could afford it, but then Buck called."  
  
"Buck, as in your father's partner Buck?"  
  
"The same."  
  
"You're telling me Buck Frobisher wanted to buy your dad's land?"  
  
"Not at first, no. He's retiring and inquired about leasing the land. I thought it only fitting since he and my father marked out the property together years ago."  
  
Ray sat back, amazed at how things worked out sometimes. "So instead of leasing, you sold it?"  
  
"With the proviso that should he wish to sell it again, he'd give me first opportunity to buy, yes."  
  
"Wow, that's really lucky. Everybody gets what they need."  
  
"I thought so, yes."  
  
Ray closed his eyes briefly, finally taking in the fact that he and Ben actually had a place together, a real home they could build together. He liked the idea. "So, what do I owe ya?"  
  
"You don't owe me anything, Ray."  
  
"I'm not letting you pay for the whole thing by yourself, Ben. We've been through that already."  
  
"Very well, but the financial details aside, I consider my home, your home just as you opened your home and your life to me."  
  
"A what's mine is yours and yours is mine kind of thing?"

"Exactly."  
  
"Okay, but here's the thing. I'm going to put your name on all my accounts. That way, anything else we need, we pay for it out of that."  
  
"A joint account as it were?"  
  
"Yeah. That seems fair, right?"  
  
"If you insist."  
  
"Oh, I insist all right, Mr. I'm going to pay for everything on my own guy. If we're together, then we're together. I don't want you to have to carry me money-wise. I can pay my part. Might have to make it in installments, but I pay my own way. I'm no freeloader, never have been, never will be. I'm not starting our life together in Canada by being a bum."  
  
"You're not a bum, Ray."  
  
"Damn right I'm not a bum." Ray laced his fingers with Ben's and smiled. "Partners, Ben, **equal** partners. No more going out and playing land grabber on your own from now on."  
  
"Understood."

* * *

Later, back at the cabin, Ray sat on the edge of the bed and took a quick personal inventory. His body still ached from the long trip, his right leg nagging the loudest. He really just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for a week or two, not go traipsing off to a town full of tourists and wannabe Canadians. Sure, he wouldn't mind seeing all the friends they'd made at Christmas, but at the moment, he wasn't in the mood to be all that social. 

Ben finished wiping down the counter by the sink and hung up the dishcloth to dry. "We should make a list of what we need before we leave."

"Peace of mind would be nice."  
  
"I don't think they stock that at the local grocer's, Ray."  
  
"Probably not. Couldn't afford it even if they did."  
  
Ben settled on the bed beside his partner. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. I'm just tired." Ray rubbed his face, his skin itchy, still strange to the touch. 

"Are your stitches bothering you?"  
  
"Yeah, a little."  
  
"We could stop by the local clinic and have the facial sutures removed if you'd like."  
  
Ray lifted his left arm, peppered with rows of black stitches and scabs. "And this?"  
  
"Not for a few more days, I would imagine. However, you could ask the doctor while we're there."  
  
"Why can't you take them out?"  
  
Ben stood up and stepped to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out. He did a number on his right eyebrow, rubbing like crazy, obviously disturbed by the suggestion. "Be serious, Ray."  
  
"I am serious. It's just string. Cut it and pull it out. That's all they'll do anyway."  
  
Ben shook his head, his arms crossed. "It's your face, Ray. I'm not taking any undue risks."  
  
"But "  
  
"No."  
  
The strength behind the word surprised him. Ray got up and walked over. "Okay. It's not a big deal."  
  
"It's a very big deal, Ray." Ben caressed his cheek, his face incredibly sad for a moment.  
  
Ray captured Ben's hand and whispered. "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For making you worry, for fucking up and getting drawn back into this mess again."  
  
"You were doing your job. None of this is your fault, Ray."

"Some of it is. Martin Jones is on me."  
  
Ben sighed and shook his head. "O'Malley killed that young man, not you."  
  
"I should've done more. You know it, I know it. What happened to the kid wasn't right."

"No, but you're not to blame for what happened."  
  
Ray turned away without arguing and walked out onto the porch. The sun blinded him for a moment, but his eyes adjusted pretty fast. He stared out at the horizon, his body still shaky as he remembered how the boy had come to him as a witness, how the kid had been so smart and full of some crazy idea that doing the right thing really mattered. Eyes stinging, Ray sat down on the steps, arms crossed, his head down and resting on his raised knees. Ben settled beside him, his hand gently massaging the back of Ray's neck. "Ray "  
  
"I wanted to get O'Malley so bad, I didn't do what I should've."  
  
"Which was?"  
  
"Which was send the boy packing. I should've told him to leave right off the bat and pretend he never saw or heard a thing. Better yet, I should've given him enough money to get him and his mum out of town. I knew deep down it was wrong to tell Welsh what he knew."  
  
"You did the right thing, Ray. He was a witness. It wasn't your job to protect him. If anyone failed, it was the department and the federal government."  
  
Ray cleared his throat, the words choking off his air. "I killed two kids in less than a year, Ben. Enough's enough. I've had it, I'm through. It's throw in the towel time. I didn't become a cop to kill kids."  
  
"Clayton Biggs had a gun. You were protecting yourself and all the people who could've been hurt if he'd fired an automatic weapon."  
  
"He's still dead. So's Martin Jones and he didn't do anything wrong, not a damn thing, but that doesn't mean shit." Ray squeezed his eyes shut, his heart heavy and guilt-ridden. "You know, all the bad stuff that's happened to me, sometimes I think I deserve it."  
  
Ben's fingers tightened on Ray's neck as he leaned in. "Don't say that."  
  
"Why not? I mean, it's like that cosmic caramel stuff."  
  
"Cosmic caramel stuff? Do you mean Karma?"

"Yeah, you know, that whole, what goes around comes around business. It's like if I hurt somebody or don't do the right thing, then I get hurt, too." Ben didn't answer right away, but he fingered Ray's neck some more. Finally, Ray turned his head to see Ben staring at him with dark, serious eyes. "What?"  
  
"You worry me when you talk like this."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yes. How can you possibly think you deserved to be raped, Ray?"  
  
The R word hit him like a hammer. They never used it between them, never said it out loud. Ray flinched away as Ben captured his arm. 

Ray snapped instinctively. "Let go."  
  
Ben released him, but didn't take his eyes off Ray, who now paced in front of the porch. "I'm serious, Ray. How could you believe such a thing?"

"I didn't say that."  
  
"You implied it. You said "

"I know what I fucking said, and I never said I deserved to be you know."  
  
"Raped?"  
  
"Yeah, that."  
  
"You can't even say the word."  
  
"I don't need to. You seem to be doing just fine."  
  
Ben shook his head, but remained seated. "I'm not fine, Ray, and neither are you from the sound of it." He paused, tugging at his ear, obviously unsettled by the discussion. "You never talked like this before, never told me you felt responsible for what happened with Clooney because of killing the boy."  
  
Despite the bright sun and the fresh air, Ray's world narrowed to a darkness deep inside. His lungs tightened in his chest as he struggled to get the words out, to make Ben understand. "I don't, at least not the way you're saying. I just meant that bad things happen to people who do bad things. Maybe I should've done something different, you know? Things might not have turned out so fucked up if I'd been smarter or faster. I should've ended the operation as soon as I knew that Clooney was a psycho and that my partner was fucking him while we were undercover. I mean, if I'd done that the first time, none of this later stuff might've happened."  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"No, but "  
  
"Ray, listen to me. You're blaming yourself for things over which you had no control."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Ray hugged himself tightly. Despite the warmth of the sun, he shivered. "I know."  
  
"Then why are you saying all this?"  
  
"I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to work things out, trying to make things that don't make any sense make some kind of sense in my head."

"I see."  
  
Ray met worried blue eyes, hopeful that Ben really understood what he was saying. Then maybe Ben could explain it to him. "Yeah?"  
  
"The struggle to make sense of the terrible things you've endured isn't unusual or even unexpected. However, I have to heartily disagree with your conclusions."  
  
Ray turned away and looked out across the horizon. He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time."  
  
Ben got up and stood beside him, his hand on Ray's arm again. "Ray, I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"Let's table this discussion for some other time when we're less strained."  
  
"Fine by me. I never wanted to have it in the first place."  
  
Ben kissed his cheek. "Let's go to town, Ray. We could have your stitches removed and then go to Mimi's for lunch."  
  
"Sounds good. I want to stop by Cal's, too. I'd like to get a tripod for the camera."  
  
"I see no problem with that."  
  
"Just a problem with me."  
  
"Ray "  
  
Holding up a hand, Ray cut him off. "It's okay. I know I'm not thinking right about some stuff right now. Guess that's one of the reasons why we're here, to get my head on straight. Maybe seeing Mimi and Cal will help me forget about all this shit for a while."

"Perhaps."  
  
Ray noticed the hesitation, the doubt hanging between them. "It's okay, Ben. I'll be fine. No crazy stuff in public. Promise."

"I'm not worried about that."  
  
"Just the crazy stuff in private, huh?"  
  
Ben reached over and pulled Ray close, hugging him, his voice soft. "You're not crazy, Ray."  
  
Snorting, Ray sighed. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Mountie, and it might convince one of us. Meanwhile, let's go to town."  
  
Reluctantly, Ben released him. "Would you like to drive, Ray?"  
  
Suddenly excited and pleased at the prospect of getting behind the wheel again, Ray asked, "You trust me to drive the Jeep?"  
  
"I don't see why not. You know the way to town and you're an excellent driver."  
  
Ray might be crazy, but he wasn't blind. "And if I drive, you can ride shotgun."  
  
On cue, Ben smiled, talking like he really didn't have a clue about what Ray meant. "Shotgun, Ray?"

"Just give me the keys, you big phony."

Ben pitched him the keys as he walked into the cabin to fetch his sidearm. Ray ran a hand through his hair. He needed to get a permit for his own gun, the sooner the better. Walking around Canada, even with a Mountie carrying heat, made him feel way too exposed. Ray took a deep breath and decided maybe it was time to ask old Alan for a favor of his own. 

* * *

They ended up in the clinic first thing. Even in jeans and T-shirt, people recognized Ben right away, like anyone could forget a good-looking guy like somebody out of a hotshot celebrity magazine. The receptionists and nurses buzzed around, calling him Constable Fraser, all cheery smiles, happy to see him shit, and got them both right in. Ben filled out the paperwork while Ray went to get his face fixed.

Funny thing was that it could've been any place. Chicago, Canada, medical joints all looked the same, cold, white, and scary. Ray shifted uneasily on the exam table, pulling the thin, flimsy gown down over his knees the best he could. Why the fuck did he have to take off all his clothes to get stitches in his face taken out anyway? Why'd the nurse take his blood pressure and temperature and make him get on a scale? It didn't make much sense to Ray, but he did what she said. The sooner they cleaned up his face, the better. If he had to jump through a few medical hoops to get there, whatever.

An older man walked in carrying a thick chart. Tall, thin, at least in his mid-sixties, he wore gold wire-rimmed glasses on the tip of his nose. His grey hair curled up around the edge of his lab coat collar and his skin had the brownish tan of a white guy who worked outside a lot without sunscreen. He smiled a toothy grin, one that made him look an awful lot like Turnbull forty years down the road. The guy had a surprisingly soft voice, though, one that didn't really match his elderly appearance. "Good afternoon, Detective. I'm Dr. Egan. Welcome to Canada."  
  
"Thanks. Appreciate it. Can we just do this?"  
  
"Have a little patience, son. I just got your chart from the States a short while ago. Interesting reading I must say, but I haven't had a chance to peruse all of it yet. It's rather extensive. Seems you've been rather busy the last year or so, what with broken bones and the like."  
  
Ray frowned, not sure if he'd heard right. "My chart?"  
  
"Yes, your partner, Constable Fraser, had it faxed to me from Chicago."  
  
"Fraser faxed my file up here, my medical file?"  
  
"Yes. Is there a problem?"  
  
Confused, Ray rubbed a hand through his hair, wondering what the fuck Ben was thinking. He was just having stitches taken out. Why the hell would the man need his file? "Look, there's no problem. I just want these stitches out of my face and find out when I can take out the rest."

Egan put down the chart and pushed his glasses up on his nose before putting on some latex gloves. Then he fingered the skin around Ray's left eye. "This looks fine, good healing, just a little redness." He used his thumbs to push the brow and then the bone under Ray's eye. "Does that hurt?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good." He flashed a light in first the left eye, then the right, taking his time. "How's your vision?"

"Same as before."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Not so good, but good enough."

"Your records say you have astigmatism as well as some mild nearsightedness."

"Yeah, since I was a kid."  
  
"But your sight's no worse now than it was before the injury? No double vision or blurring?"  
  
"No, not anymore, not since the day before yesterday."  
  
"That's good then." Instead of getting down to business, Egan took Ray's left arm and checked over the other cuts. "These stitches aren't ready to come out yet. I'd say in a few more days, Thursday or Friday would be fine. We'll make an appointment for that then, eh?"  
  
"Sure, whatever. Could I get the stitches out of my face now?"  
  
Egan grinned and shook his head. "You young fellas are always in such a hurry."  
  
"Well, I've kind of got things to do, Doc."  
  
Nodding, Egan didn't pick up the pace. Instead, he put the stethoscope in his ears and put it on Ray's chest. "Take a deep breath for me."  
  
Ray stiffened at the touch, getting a clue that something was up, something that smelled way too much like rotten Mountie. "I don't need an exam. I just came in for the stitches."  
  
Egan stepped back for a moment and studied him. "Detective Vecchio, may I call you Ray?"  
  
"Sure, Ray's fine."  
  
"You're here, I'm here, what's the harm? The charge is the same whether I examine you or not. You were injured rather recently. I'd just like to check you over to be thorough. Nothing too invasive, I assure you."

Ray crossed his arms, his hands tucked up under his armpits. He worked hard to keep from blowing his top. "My partner have anything to do with this? Did Fraser tell you I needed to be checked out?"  
  
"It's standard procedure, Ray. I'm not going to just have someone come in with your history and take out the stitches without making sure you're all right otherwise. They might do that in Chicago, but you're in Canada now."  
  
Ray shook his head, still suspicious. "You didn't answer my question. Did Fraser ask you to check me out?"  
  
Patiently, Egan nodded. "He did, but I agree with his assessment."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"Well, I have some concerns."  
  
"About?"  
  
"Your blood pressure is low and from the blood work from your last hospital admission, I'm surprised you weren't held for more tests."  
  
"Tests for what?"  
  
"Your red blood cell count is low. It's borderline, true, but there must be some underlying reason for that, especially since it seems to be an ongoing problem. There are some other abnormal counts as well. Of course, it could be due to the stress and a low resistance after your injuries. I also noticed when you came in, you're limping, favoring your right leg. Your records indicate you had considerable damage to your thigh. All together, it's worrisome. I'd be remiss not to examine you while you're here."  
  
Ray opened his mouth and closed it. He didn't know quite what to say, how to react to this guy. He hadn't expected all that hurled at him in one go. From the sound of things, he was more of a wreck than he thought. The doctor took his silence for consent and moved in again. He put his stethoscope to Ray's chest. "Now, if you'd take a deep breath, I'd like to check your heart and lungs."

Ray followed orders as Egan listened both to the front and the back. Then he used his both hands to examine Ray's throat and then his armpits before having Ray open wide for an oral check. Egan didn't say anything as he jotted a couple of things down on a fresh sheet in Ray's chart. After that, he motioned for Ray to stretch out. "Lie back for me. I'd like to feel your abdomen." 

The doctor took his time, using both hands to push around Rays' belly. Mostly it didn't hurt, but every now and again, he'd jab a little too hard and got one of Ray's wicked glares for his troubles. When Egan finished, he guided Ray to sit back up and wrote a few more notations.

Turning back to Ray, he wore a smile again. "Don't look so worried, Ray. I'm sure we can get you back to tiptop shape soon."  
  
"That'd be a neat trick."  
  
"How have you been feeling lately? Tired, any headaches or irritability?"  
  
"Check, check, and, oh yeah, check again."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Look, that's nothing new. I'm always irritable. Ask Fraser."  
  
"And the fatigue and headaches?"  
  
Ray rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. "Yeah, well, those are new, at least since back before Christmas."  
  
Suddenly more serious, Egan nodded. "I read you were seriously injured around that time, broken arm, severe lacerations, other trauma."  
  
Ray would've grinned if it didn't hurt so much at the guy's use of the word trauma. Canadians were nothing if not discreet. "Yeah, well, I'm better now. I went back to work until last week. I still feel pretty dragged out though."  
  
"The low hemoglobin and red blood cell count might account for the fatigue. Describe the headaches for me?"  
  
"It depends. Sometimes it's like I'm sick to my stomach, it hurts so bad."  
  
"Sensitivity to light?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
"Pressure?"  
  
"Like a band tightening around my head? Yeah."  
  
Nodding again, Egan scribbled in his chart. Ray had to ask, "You think the headaches are more than stress?"  
  
Egan lifted his head and stared at him from behind those funny glasses. He had blue eyes, but a different blue from his own or Fraser's, more a steely grey blue. "Stress could be a factor, Ray, but I'm not sure that it's the only cause. What about appetite?"

"I don't eat much and when I do, I get queasy sometimes. It's just like my stomach's all in knots most of the time, you know?"

"Do you vomit?"  
  
"Sometimes, not that often."  
  
"Sometimes is what, two or three times a month, a week, or every time you eat?"  
  
"Every couple of weeks or so. Like I said, not that often. I've always had kind of a tricky stomach, that's all."

Egan didn't look happy, but he moved on to a different topic. "And what about your leg?"  
  
Rubbing his right thigh, Ray took a deep breath. He didn't usually tell Ben about it, but this guy was a doctor. Might as well come clean. "It hurts pretty much all the time now. Not **hurt** hurt, but kind of achy, just enough to know it's there, you know? If I try to walk too much or do a lot of stairs, it hurts worse. Then it really gets throbby. If I move too fast or too hard, then it's like a searing pain that goes right through it."  
  
"Are you doing the physical therapy that your doctor prescribed?"  
  
Ray shrugged, hedging his answer. "Sometimes, well, hardly ever. It didn't seem to help."  
  
"I see." The disapproving tone must be a Canadian thing. Egan sounded just like Fraser when Ray slipped an extra burger to Dief.

Defensive, Ray explained, "Look, it's hard to find time to work out when you're a cop."  
  
"I understand, Ray, I do. It must be frustrating as well, to work so hard and feel that there's little improvement."  
  
"Well, yeah, there's that, too."  
  
"I'd like to examine the leg. Is that all right?"  
  
Strange as it seemed, Ray didn't really mind that much. He'd been worried about the leg getting worse for a while, but hadn't wanted to deal with it. "Might as well."  
  
Egan pushed back the gown and ran his hand over the inside of Ray's thigh. Just the touch burned a little, but when Egan pushed harder near the center of the scar, Ray about came off the table. "Son of a "  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"What the hell did you just do?  
  
"It would appear that I hit a nerve."  
  
Rubbing his leg vigorously, Ray shook his head. "It's never done that before. Well, hardly ever."  
  
"You don't massage it like you're supposed to?"  
  
Guilty again, Ray shook his head. "Not much."  
  
"I want to try something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I need you to lift and straighten your leg for me. Hold it straight out if you can."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I'd like to see the range of motion."  
  
Reluctantly, Ray did what Egan asked, finding that he couldn't straighten it out completely. The doctor took his foot with both hands and said, "Tell me when it hurts."  
  
"It already hurts."  
  
"When it hurts more."  
  
Bracing himself, Ray used his hands on the table to balance himself as Egan lifted his leg a little higher. The pain shot up through his rear. "When!"

Egan stopped, but then added, "Im going to bend it now and then try moving it side to side."  
  
Swallowing hard, his forehead beaded with sweat, Ray nodded for him to continue. When he did, the leg did bend, but not nearly as far as it should've before Ray gave the signal to stop. Then the pain got worse when the doctor straightened it again before moving it sideways. Ray yelped involuntarily at the unexpected jab, sharp like a knife up through his hip. Egan's frown deepened. He released Ray's leg and then pulled the gown back down. He sat on a rolling chair, jotted a few notes, and then turned his attention back to Ray. "I'm sure the doctor explained about scar tissue."  
  
Ray wiped his face with the back of his hand, forcing himself not to trace the scar across his neck with his finger. Instead, he nodded. "I already know about scars."  
  
"I'm not talking about the physical scar that you can see, Ray. I'm sure he told you how scar tissue is weaker than normal tissue, but did he explain that if you didn't do the therapy that internal scarring can occur? Thick bands build up around your muscles, even your tendons and ligaments to a certain degree. That leads to pain and restricted movement. The longer you go without proper PT, the more adhesions, or internal scarring, can occur."  
  
The words all kind of ran together, but Ray got the gist. "You're saying if I don't do the exercises, it gets worse and stays that way."  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. I'd recommend strongly that you go to a professional therapist for an appropriate individual plan while you're here and go back to your own when you go back home. I'm serious, Ray. If you continue to ignore this leg, it'll get much worse. I've had patients end up with serious disability because they didn't do the physical therapy they needed to do in order to avoid the build up of scar tissue."  
  
Ray closed his eyes, determined not to panic. He used his calm cop voice to ask, "You got a name of somebody I can use while Im here?"  
  
"I do. She's excellent, too. I'll write an order and I'd recommend you start today. This afternoon if possible."  
  
"This afternoon?"  
  
"Yes, Ray. You've ignored this for too long as it is."  
  
Disappointed, but taking the doctor's words to heart, he agreed. "Okay, set it up and I'll be there."  
  
"Certainly. Now, we need to discuss something equally as important."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"I need to run some tests."  
  
Just like back in school, the T-Word made Ray shiver. "Tests? What kind of tests?"  
  
"More blood work, a full panel. I know you just had some tests run a few days ago in Chicago, but I'd like to see something more extensive to check some things a bit more specific. Also, I'll need a urine sample. Meanwhile, other than the PT, you should be resting more and eating properly. You're underweight, Ray, but then you probably know that already."  
  
"I do sleep and I'm not hungry most of the time."  
  
"I understand that, especially if you're experiencing the nausea and vomiting you've described. I'm hoping the tests I'm ordering will shed some light on that. Still, you can't get well if you don't take care of yourself in the meantime."  
  
Ray shook his head in frustration. "You sound like Fraser."  
  
"I always knew the Constable was a sensible young man." Egan reached out and put a hand on Ray's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Seriously, Ray, we'll get you back on your feet again, but you have to work with us."  
  
Clearing his throat, avoiding those blue eyes, Ray took a deep breath. "Okay, I get that."  
  
"Good. Now, I'll send in Lucy. She'll remove your stitches and then take you to the lab."  
  
"I need to tell Fraser."  
  
"Not a problem. I'll let him know. He'll be waiting for you when you're finished."

"You going to tell him what you told me, you know, about the problems?"  
  
"Only if you want me to."  
  
"He's my partner, so, yeah, you can tell him. It'll save me from having to listen to I told you so."  
  
"Now, Ray, I'm sure Constable Fraser wouldn't be so petty."  
  
Ray snorted, thinking the doc might know his business around a damaged body, but he didn't know shit about a certain nosy, control-freak Mountie. He mentally prepared himself for the human pin cushion routine and put on his best game face. "So, are we doing this needle deal or what?"

* * *

Ray came out of the lab, his arm sore and his head pounding. Ben waited for him patiently, hat in hand. His eyes narrowed with concern right before he asked, "Ray, are you all right?"  
  
"Fine and dandy. Just a pint low, give or take. Pitter patter, time to go." He waved at Ben and headed out the door, not waiting for a response. Ray didn't say another word until they were both inside the jeep. Then he put the key in the ignition but didn't start the engine, just waited.

After a few moments, Ben frowned and finally took the bait. "Is something wrong?"

"Like you don't know.

"I assure you that I have no "

"Tell me about Egan."  
  
Ben stiffened, his tone suddenly more defensive. "What about him?"  
  
"Don't play games here, Fraser. He had my chart already, like he was expecting to see me."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"And don't fucking think you're going to ah your way out of this. So, let me say this one more time real slow, **tell me about Egan**."  
  
"You're angry."  
  
"Damn right I'm angry. Why didn't you tell me you were faxing my chart up here?"  
  
"Honestly, I didn't think about it."  
  
"Didn't think about it? Pull the other one."  


"Other what, Ray?"  
  
"Forget about it. Just tell me why you didn't tell me."  
  
"There were a lot of preparations to be made for the trip. I knew you'd need medical attention while you were here. I also knew that to allow for the best care, they'd need your records. I thought it only prudent to have them sent."  
  
"To Egan?"  
  
Ben nodded. "Yes. He's a good doctor."  
  
"I'm not saying he's not. He's good. I can tell that already. I'm just asking, how do you know this guy?"  
  
Ben turned his head and stared out the window, his voice strained. "Why is that important?"

The hair on the back of Ray's neck stood up and his pissy mood vanished. Reaching out, he gripped Ben's shoulder. "What is it? What's going on?"  
  
Ben took a long breath and an even longer moment to answer. "Dr. Egan's an excellent doctor, Ray. When Alan mentioned in passing that his practice was here now, I was very pleased."  
  
"But why? How do you know this guy?"  
  
"He was the doctor I went to when I was with Joshua."  
  
The name of Ben's abusive ex-lover hit Ray like a brick in the gut. "You're saying Egan's the one who fixed you up when Bullweather beat the crap out of you all those times?"  
  
"Yes. He was a sympathetic listener as well."  
  
"He should've turned the prick in."  
  
Ben turned and met Ray's angry gaze. "It was my choice not to file charges, Ray. I assure you, Dr. Egan worked very hard to persuade me to do so, but in the end, he respected the fact that it was my decision."

"A bad one."

"Perhaps, but you know why I made it."  
  
"Because the guy's a bigwig and it was only your word against his. Plus, if you'd come out of the closet back then and filed a complaint, it'd have been you on trial instead of him. It would've flushed your career down the toilet, no more Constable Fraser."  
  
"And I was ashamed of my own behavior."  
  
Anger blistered his throat as Ray fought to contain his anger. "Son of a bitch knew that, knew just how to play it. Jesus, Ben, we've seen guys do that a hundred times to women. They count on guilt and shame, even though you had nothing to be ashamed of, **nothing**."  
  
"I was young and foolish."  
  
"An easy target."  
  
"Just so, yes."  
  
Ray sat back and slapped his forehead with a tight fist twice. He fucking hated this guy and he'd never met him, not in person anyway. But in his mind, Ray had clobbered the son of a bitch a hundred times, a million times, wanted to blow his fucking brains out for hurting Ben. "God, this shit makes my blood boil."  
  
Ben grabbed Ray's wrist and held it down in his lap before he smacked himself again. "Don't hit yourself, Ray."  
  
"I'd like to hit Bullweather, really punch his lights out. Asshole."  
  
"While I appreciate the sentiment, it really wouldn't accomplish anything."  
  
"It'd make me feel a hell of a lot better, knock that guy on his sorry ass, kick him in the head, give him a taste of his own medicine."  
  
"It was a long time ago."  
  
"Doesn't matter. It still hurts to see how you get when you talk about him."  
  
Ben swallowed hard, still avoiding his eyes. "It wasn't the happiest time of my life, but I survived. As to Dr. Egan, he was really quite supportive. He did everything he could to help me. I must admit, I was surprised to hear his name again after all this time, but I felt it a fortunate turn of events." Ben finally met Ray's gaze and forced a smile. "He'll do his best for you, Ray."  
  
Temporarily burying his own anger towards the man who'd hurt Ben, Ray nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he seems on the ball. Hell, he took enough blood, he ought to be able to tell something."  
  
"He said you needed to return to physical therapy as well."  
  
"Yeah, well, I slacked off on that all on my own, so that's on me."  
  
"So, you'll go?"  
  
"Not much choice. I dont want to end up a cripple. You've got enough on your plate without that."  
  
"Your rehabilitation isn't about me, Ray. It's about you."  
  
"You, me, same difference. Besides, I've got to get back in shape if we're going to be living up here and hiking all over the place. I can't let you and Dief loose in the woods without me for backup. So it's back to the torture chamber for Ray."  
  
Ben leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth before settling back in the passenger seat. "I'm sure it won't be that bad. You've had PT before, as have I."  
  
"Like I said, it's back to the torture chamber. Before that starts, we should get going. I didn't think we'd be stuck at the doctor's this long. I want to go over to Mountie headquarters and see your old pal McClain."  
  
Startled, Ben did a quick sideways glance. "Alan? You want to see Alan?"  
  
"Yeah, Alan as in your buddy Alan, the guy with the pull to get me a permit to pack a pistol."  
  
Ben tugged at his ear, but then smiled. "There's no need, Ray. I've already applied. You should have the permit by tomorrow."

Ray couldn't believe it. "You're kidding? I thought I'd have to fight you tooth and nail about carrying a handgun. You didn't want me to have anything but a rifle last time."  
  
"Circumstances have changed somewhat, Ray. I also made arrangements to have your service weapon shipped overnight to Alan for inspection. When we pick up the permit, the gun will be there."  
  
Impressed once again at his partner's ability to take care of business, Ray shook his head in complete admiration. "Mr. Super efficient Mountie, that's my guy.  
  
"Proper preparation "  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill." Ray smirked and turned the key to start the engine. "Look, why don't we go eat and then go to Cal's? I want to get that tripod and get it set up before it gets dark, maybe snap some pictures."  
  
"I think we have plenty of time then."  
  
Ray snorted. "Oh, yeah, the whole it stays light all the time thing. Gotcha. But I still need to eat, get the tripod, and I've got that appointment for PT at 3:30."  
  
"After that, I'm sure you'll need a light supper and to rest."  
  
"I'll probably need a crane to pick my skinny ass up off the mat."  
  
"You're exaggerating."  
  
Leaving the parking lot and heading back into the heart of town, Ray shook his head. "Im already tired, Ben. PT's going to wipe me out, you know that."  
  
Ben reached over and ran his fingers through Ray's hair, making it stand up a little more than usual. "It'll be fine, Ray. I'll be there to take you home and put you to bed."  
  
Driving along, Ray struggled to block out the images of the painful therapy he'd endured for months during his recovery. He'd be winded and hurting, sweating like a heavyweight champion who'd been knocked out in a major upset. Ray handled pain, took it like a pro and sometimes went back for more, but therapy was different. Every time he did it, he thought about how he'd been cut up, about Clooney, about being helpless. This time he had to focus on fixing the injury and not the cause. No way did he want Ben to deal with some crippled freak who couldn't pull his own weight. Ray shuddered and shook his head. "Bed sounds good."  
  
"Then bed it is, Ray."

* * *

Mimi's place was wall-to-wall tourists, all lined up and waiting to eat authentic Canadian cooking. Unfortunately, quaint and cozy went out the window with all those extra bodies. Standing outside, Ray shoved his hands down into his jean's pockets and shook his head in disappointment. "Looks like we might be better off grabbing a snack someplace else."  
  
"I agree. I fear the word about Mimi's fine cuisine has managed to increase her business somewhat."  
  
"Who knew so people were in such a rush to chow down on blubber and lichens? Jeez."

"Now, Ray "  
  
"That's one of those questions that doesn't need an answer, Ben."

"You mean a rhetorical question?"  
  
"Yeah, whatever. So where to?"  
  
"Nowhere, buster. It's about time you two showed up. I was about to send out a search party." 

Ray turned around and saw a larger than life Mimi headed his way, her arms out, ready to hug him. As she embraced him with a big smile and a kiss to the cheek, he returned the favor. "Hey, how's my favorite lady?"  
  
Mimi stepped back and studied him, her eyes taking in the damage to his face and arm. "Better than you, looks like." She turned her attention quickly to Ben, gave him the hug-kiss treatment, before she started in. "You two come inside. We've got a new backroom and I've got a table with your names on it."  
  
Ben hesitated. "You're busy. We should come back later."  
  
"Hush with all that. You've got a reserved table at my place anytime, Benton Fraser, don't you forget that." She quickly added, "You, too, Ray."  
  
Taking Ray's arm, she headed back inside with Ben right behind them. They had to push through tight quarters, every table full, the noise loud, but friendly as people chatted and ordered caribou burgers and other stuff Ray wouldnt eat unless he were stranded or Ben double dog dared him. Mimi had to raise her voice to be heard over the din. "It'll be quieter in the back."  
  
As they walked through a rear doorway, Ray found a slightly smaller room filled with tables, two of which were empty. Mimi explained, "I keep these for the staff, regulars, and for special friends like you guys."  
  
Ray's heart warmed, knowing she truly meant what she was saying. "Thanks."  
  
She patted his arm and directed him to the table. Still on guard from any threat, Ben sat with his back to the wall and with a clear shot at the door and windows. The walls muffled the racket from the other room and the kitchen. Ben asked, "When did you build the extension?"  
  
"Just this spring. Stevie Garvey has his own contracting business now."  
  
Ben's eyes widened with surprise. "Little Stevie Garvey?"  
  
"The same. You should look him up while you're here this time. He's turned into a really fine young man. He did a great job, too."

Ben glanced around and admired the workmanship, nodding with approval. "I can see that."

"We needed the room. I mean, tourist season's great. I make enough money to get me through the winter and to help fund the shelter, but it can wear a person down turning people away. It just seemed like the right thing to do and I couldn't beat the price." Mimi handed them both menus. "Now what would you two like to drink?"  
  
"Hot tea for me. Ray?"  
  
"Coffee and some water."  
  
"Sounds good. Look, I'd love to catch up, but this is our busiest time. Maybe after you two settle in a little, you could come by the house for supper?"  
  
Ben nodded. "I'd like that."  
  
Ray agreed. "Sure, in a few days."  
  
"Great." She patted them both on the shoulders, genuinely happy to see them despite the need to get back to work. "I missed you both."  
  
Before they responded, she rushed off to get the drinks. Ray took a deep breath. "I forgot what it was like."  
  
"What what was like?"  
  
"Being here."  
  
"Being here? I don't understand."  
  
Ray put his menu down, not sure if he could explain it, say it right so Ben would get it. "It's like a different world. The people, the cabin, the town, it's like a big family or something."  
  
"I agree that the community spirit here is quite strong."  
  
"Community spirit, huh? Yeah, that's it, thats what it feels like."  
  
"One doesn't always feel that in Chicago, not as a whole."  
  
Snorting, Ray picked up his menu again. "In parts of it, maybe, but, no, not as a whole. More likely you'd get a hole in your head if you went to the wrong community, badge or no badge. I have to admit, this place takes a little getting used to."  
  
"It does, but I've found that it's worth the effort."  
  
"Yeah, I get that." Ray scanned the items and realized he really wasn't that hungry. He'd never tell Ben that, though. The guy had enough to worry about without brooding over Ray's food choices. "So, who's Little Stevie Garvey?"  
  
Ben put down his menu and smiled, his eyes sparkling and reflecting some fond memory. "He's a young man who had a tendency to make impulsive acquisitions from time to time."  
  
"He was a thief?"  
  
"A shoplifter. He had his reasons."  
  
"They always do."  
  
"He was just a boy, Ray. Granted, stealing is never right, but after apprehending him and hearing his story, I managed to smooth out the situation with the shopkeeper without having to actually arrest him."  
  
Intrigued, Ray leaned forward. "You made an exception? You let the kid off easy?"  
  
"It was with a warning and I assure you it was never easy for Stevie Garvey, Ray."  
  
"I don't get it?"  
  
"Stevie took care of his disabled widowed mother and his two younger sisters. He was only sixteen at the time, going to school and working part-time. The food and presents he stole were for them."  
  
Ray sat back, the full picture taking shape. "You fell for the sob story."  
  
"As would you."  
  
"Probably, but Im not you."  
  
Ben frowned, his voice tighter. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means, you used to really toe the line, follow the rules, do it by the book. Looks like even back then you had a few lapses."  
  
"Lapses?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, lapses where you found out the law isn't always upheld by following every letter."  
  
Mimi brought their drinks before Ben had a chance to answer. "So, what do you guys want?"  
  
Ben ordered a lichen salad with something called salmonberries on it. Ray didn't even what to think about what those might be. Instead, he said, "Just give me a plain beef burger."  
  
She looked surprised. "No fries?"  
  
"No, I made a pig out of myself with those doughnuts you sent up. Thanks, by the way, they were delicious. Plus, I've got PT in a little bit. Wouldnt want to go in with a full stomach."

Reluctantly, she accepted that. "If you change your mind, let me know."  
  
"Sure."  
  
As soon as she left, Ben asked, "Are you all right, Ray?"  
  
"I'm fine. I just don't want to push my luck and chow down on a mooseburger before Brunhilda gets hold of me."  
  
"Brunhilda?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, the bruiser of a lady who's going to whip my ass back into shape."  
  
"Ah, I see." Ben sighed heavily and leaned in. "Ray, dread will only make the session worse than it is."  
  
"Dread's all I've got when it comes to this shit."  
  
Ben took his hand in his and then kissed it. "Relax, Ray. It'll be fine."  
  
"Easy for you to say."  
  
Hurt flashed in his eyes, but Ben didn't release him. "I know it's unpleasant, I do. I've been there. You know how hard it was for me when I was shot."  
  
"In the back. Yeah, I know." Ray squeezed Ben's hand, knowing that his partner suffered more than just back pain from that bullet. "I'm an ass. Im sorry. I know you know. It's just "  
  
"You're scared."  
  
"I'm not scared."  
  
"Frustrated then."  
  
"Okay, okay, I can do frustrated, but I'm **not** scared."  
  
"Understood."  
  
They sat there holding hands, Ben's index finger stroking Ray's gold wedding ring. After a few moments, Ben spoke quietly. "Ray, I'm fully aware that the law isn't always very flexible as it's written, that we sometimes have to use our own judgment as to its enforcement."  
  
"I know that. I think it's cool you gave the kid a break. From the sound of things, I'm sure he needed it. Any other cop might not have bothered."  
  
"Then why did you say "  
  
"I was thinking about Victoria and how you were when we first got together. I figured back when you did your relief assignment here in Yellowknife, you might have been a little, what's the word, rigid."  
  
Ben's face went through several changes, surprise, sadness, and finally understanding. "I learned a lot because of Victoria."  
  
"You did what you had to with her." Ray didn't add that he never wanted to meet up with that Victoria bitch, not if he didn't want to end up in some Canadian prison and only seeing Ben on weekends. After everything she'd put Ben through, he couldn't trust himself not to do some serious damage as payback. "She deserved what she got and then some."

"It seemed so at the time, yes. However, I've never really been sure since. Actually, before Victoria, I always found a great comfort in knowing that the law wasn't open to interpretation, that everything was already literally decided. What happened with Victoria along with the murder of my father by a fellow officer, well, they changed my perception somewhat."  
  
Ray squeezed Ben's hand again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."  
  
"It's all right, Ray. I've got no secrets from you."  
  
"An open book, huh?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
Ray smirked. "Too bad it's in Canadian."  
  
The gloomy mood lifted and Ben smiled again, leaning in and whispering. "You read Canadian rather well, Ray."

"Yeah?"  
  
"Indeed. I find you often read me better than I read myself."  
  
"I had a good teacher."  
  
"Why thank you, Ray."  
  
"What? You think I mean you? I was talking about Turnbull." Ben chuckled and Ray sat back, happy to know that laughter didn't need a translation.

* * *

They walked into Cal's photo shop to find a tow-headed teenager behind the counter reading some slick, flashy photography magazine. Ray cocked his head sideways and then smiled with realization. "You've got to be one of Cal's kids."  
  
The young man grinned back and nodded. "Randy. You know my dad?"  
  
"Yeah." Ray stepped forward, extending a hand for a shake while motioning towards Ben. "I'm Ray and this is Constable Benton Fraser."  
  
The kid's face got even brighter, which was pretty amazing. He was a handsome kid, a younger version of his father and a true testament to the power of genetics. "Oh, yeah. You're the guy who took the picture of the eagle. Awesome job, man."  
  
Ray couldn't help but be proud that Cal had kept his photograph out front. He'd figured that as soon as they'd left at Christmas, it'd be gone. True to his word, Cal kept it there as his main advertisement for film processing. "Thanks. Your dad around?"  
  
"Sure, he's in back. I'll get him."

Just a few seconds later, Cal came into the room, obviously happy to see them, but keeping the reserved Canadian thing going. "So you guys are back, eh?"  
  
Ray nodded and Ben answered. "We bought land here."  
  
"I heard. The McClain place. Nice piece of property. Good choice."  
  
"Thank you."

"About time, too."  
  
Confused, Ray interrupted. "About time for what?"  
  
"That you two made it official and moved up here for good."  
  
Before Ray answered, Ben shook his head. "It's not official yet. We still haven't decided."  
  
"You bought the land, right?"  
  
"Well, yes, but "  
  
"Then what's to decide?"  
  
Flustered, Ben tried to explain. "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"What's complicated about moving where you belong?"  
  
Ben opened his mouth, but didn't speak. Ray realized that Ben had no real answer, no reason to argue the truth of that statement. To save them both a headache, Ray jumped in and bailed out his partner. "I'm on leave, but I've still got a job in Chicago. I haven't decided what to do about that yet."  
  
Cal took only a second to take in Ray's worn appearance and his injuries. "Looks to me like you might want to decide pretty soon. Next time you might not be so lucky." Before Ray had a chance to respond, Cal's voice softened. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to butt in, but face it, Ray, you look a little worse for the wear. You were beat up at Christmas and you're not much better now. Chicago doesn't suit you."  
  
Ray couldnt argue with that. Chicago just wasnt what it used to be, not since he'd realized there were better and safer places to live. Ray rubbed the back of his head and nodded grudgingly. "Not lately, that's a fact." He took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Look, I came in to borrow that tripod I used last time. You still got that?"  
  
"Sure. Not a problem. You still using the same gear?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. You need anything else? More film? A new career? I could teach you the ropes, everything you need to know about film work and then some. You could be a Canadian in no time, eh?"  
  
Ray laughed. He knew Cal wanted him to do photography fulltime, but Ray couldn't see himself doing that, not yet anyway. "What about your kid?"

"Oh, he pretty much knows everything I could ever teach him. He's been in the shop since he was born and spends every summer here. Right now Randy's doing all the digital work. Even set up a website and everything. People upload their stuff and he prints out the pictures or makes a CD. He's pretty much tripled my business."  
  
"That's wonderful." Ben looked around the place and added, "I noticed you've added some space, making the counters longer and the display area bigger as well."  
  
"Yeah, Stevie Garvey did it for me. Remember him?"  
  
"I do, indeed. I hear he's a contractor now."  
  
"Does great work."  
  
"I can see that."  
  
Ray realized he'd been so focused, he'd missed the improvements in the shop, but they were definitely there. "This Garvey guy gets around."  
  
Both Ben and Cal stared at him like he'd spoken a different language, which he did sometimes. Ray translated, "I just meant that he did this and Mimi's place, too. You know, gets around?"  
  
Cal laughed, amused as hell about something. "Is that what 'gets around' means due south?"  
  
"What'd you think I meant?"  
  
Ben shook his head, using that patient tone he got when Ray fucked up and said something stupid. "It doesn't matter, Ray. It's just one of those unfortunate idioms that can sometimes lead to misunderstandings when taken out of a cultural context."  
  
Suddenly it dawned on Ray what Ben meant, the whole double-meaning of 'gets around', like being slutty and shit. His face heated up as he snapped, "You guys have dirty minds."

"On the contrary, Ray, my mind is always quite tidy."  
  
"Yeah, right. Is this where I get to say in a pig's eye?"  
  
Cal chuckled and interrupted, "You need any film, Ray? You didn't say."

Ray turned his attention back to his friend. "Yeah, give me about ten rolls, same kind as last time."  
  
"Sure thing. It's all in the back."  
  
When Cal left, Ray leaned against the counter, an idea percolating in his head. He'd have to be careful, but it might work. "You should look this Steve Garvey person up."  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
"Yeah, we could have him come out to the cabin."  
  
"Certainly." Ben stared at him a moment and then frowned. "What it is, Ray?"  
  
In his head, Ray's plan expanded, started talking a lot louder. He wasn't ready to share yet, though, so he kept his answer simple. "Nothing."  
  
"Ray, I know that look."  
  
"What look?"  
  
"That look that says you're thinking something we should discuss."  
  
"You saying I'm up to no good?"  
  
"I didn't say that, not exactly."  
  
"Good."  
  
Before Ben had a chance to question him more, Cal came back with the film and tripod. "Here you go, Ray. Anything else?"  
  
"Yeah, you got the number of that Garvey guy?"  
  
"Sure, but he's in the phonebook."  
  
"We haven't got one of those yet."  
  
"Okay. Give me a minute. I'll look it up."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Ben kept his eye on Ray, watching him closely, knowing full well that he was up to something. Ray grinned and decided that making his plan might help distract him from what came next, the physical therapy session. It might also help him make up his mind about finally retiring and being done with that part of his life. Time for a new life with one last chance to get it right.

* * *

Kate Murphy stood about five foot nothing and had a voice like an angel, soft and kind of musical. Blond and blue-eyed, she was in shape, but not super skinny. In fact, she kind of reminded Ray of one of those little, sweet-faced gymnast types who used to swing around on poles and flip across mats during the Olympics. Problem was, she acted more like the devil than an angel, stretching and bending his right leg until sweat popped out on his forehead. He bit his tongue to keep from cussing just as she eased up a little. "You have to tell me when it hurts, Mr. Vecchio."  
  
"Ray, call me Ray."  
  
"Ray it is, but you have to tell me when it hurts too much. I can tell there's stiffness, but while this is uncomfortable, it shouldn't be seriously painful."  
  
"It hurts."  
  
"Thats a start. Now, tell me when." Then she pushed again. 

Ray grunted and complained. "Hurts more."  
  
Kate stopped and released his leg. She sat down on a rolling stool and moved next to him, jotting something on her chart. "We're going to work on three things with you, Ray, flexibility, strength, and pain reduction. To do that, you have to be honest with me and committed to the therapy. Can you do that?"  
  
Words were easy. "Yeah, sure."  
  
"Okay, let's start with my first question. Why haven't you been doing the exercises?"  
  
"I've been kind of busy." He didn't figure she needed to know about O'Malley and the whole running off to Canada thing.  
  
"Too busy to work your leg so you don't end up lame? Try again."  
  
Ray sat a little straighter on his stool and crossed his arms. The lady didn't pull any punches. "I guess I didn't see any progress. I've got what you call a low frustration tolerance."  
  
"A low frustration tolerance?"  
  
"Yeah, I get discouraged easy sometimes."  
  
She smiled and shook her head in amusement. "I know what it means, Ray. I'm married to a psychologist." Kate put the clipboard chart down and took a deep breath before she started in. "Ray, listen, I know it's hard to stick to a regimen. It takes discipline and dedication."  
  
Suddenly defensive, Ray snapped, "I can do discipline and dedication. I used to box."  
  
"Then you know if you don't work out, you lose your edge. You lose muscle tone and agility." 

Ray snorted to himself. "I don't box anymore. The only punches I dodge are from bad guys."  
  
"Ray, it's an analogy."  
  
"I know that." He kept it to himself that Ben did that all the time, made analogies like he was stupid. He'd never admit that it did help sometimes when he didn't get something. His head would explode if he even had half the stuff in it Ben's did. Suddenly, he realized Kate was still jabbering, sounding like every other PT person he'd ever had.  
  
"And I know that it's very frustrating to do PT and feel like you're not making progress. Unfortunately, sometimes it's not about progress. Sometimes it's just about not losing ground."  
  
Ray's head snapped up with understanding. "Sort of like treading water?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"I can't swim."  
  
She smiled and shook her head. "Something tells me you know how to keep your head above water, though."  
  
Ray didn't comment, his mind flashing back to the last time he nearly drowned. He thought about how Ben teased his tongue between Ray's lips before breathing enough air into his lungs to keep him from croaking. Kate snapped her fingers. "Ray, you with me?"  
  
Shaking his head to clear it of the past, he nodded. "Yeah, I got a short attention span, too, sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Sometimes it's hard to focus during your recovery."  
  
Ray started to say he was pretty much recovered, but stopped himself. For the first time in a long time, he realized he wasn't fooling anybody, not even himself. He wasn't recovered, nowhere near recovered. "So, what do you want me to do?"  
  
"I don't know yet. How many times a week did you do therapy in Chicago?"  
  
"Three times a week to start. After about two months, I slacked off."  
  
"So you've been without regular therapy on the leg for how long?"  
  
"About four, no, closer to five months, I guess."  
  
"Ray, Ray, Ray " Ray laughed out loud and she asked, "What?"  
  
"You sound like my partner."  
  
"That would be Constable Fraser?"  
  
Ray leaned back a little and studied her closer for a moment, wondering if everybody knew everybody in Canada. Ben kept telling him they didn't, but sometimes he had his doubts. "You know Fraser?"  
  
"Not personally, no, but I've heard his name mentioned on occasion. I'm friends with Constable McClain's wife, Cheri. She mentioned he saved Alan's life during his last posting here several years ago before their first child."  
  
"Small world."  
  
"I suppose. Anyway, she mentioned he bought their cabin and was bringing his partner from Chicago."  
  
"Gossip much."  
  
Kate smiled sweetly and shrugged, apparently not the least bit embarrassed. "Small town, not a lot of news. Besides, at the time I had no idea I'd be your therapist."  
  
Ray cocked his head, figuring he'd take a shot at some behind the scene news not filtered through Ben. "So, this Cheri, McClain's wife, she happy about moving soon?"  
  
"Sure. She's been on Alan for ages to transfer back to a more urban posting. Can't blame her. I mean, she's a city girl. Smaller towns take getting used to. I'll miss her, though."  
  
"You like it here?"  
  
"I like it, yeah." Kate sat a little straighter, obviously realizing they'd wandered off track. "Okay, chat's over, back to business. I'm going to need to see you every day, except weekends, until you get better extension and strength. I'm going to give you some exercises you can do on your own and with the help of your partner, once in the morning and again in the evening. I want you to use heat first, do the work out, and then do some light massage."  
  
"So, that's it? We're done?"  
  
Kate laughed and shook her head. "We haven't even started. Sessions run an hour. You'll need swim trunks."  
  
"Swim trunks?"  
  
"You're lucky it's summer. Ever try to buy swim trunks in Yellowknife after August? Good luck."  
  
"Why do I need swim trunks?"  
  
"The hydrotherapy. I want to relax the leg, get it warmed up and relaxed a little, before we work it harder. Less risk of pulling or damaging the muscle more than we should. It will also reduce the pain during the session. Speaking of which, are you on any prescription painkillers?"  
  
Ray shook his head, avoiding the thoughts of how easy it'd be to fall back into that trap. Dull the pain, dull the sharp edges of his life, something he too often longed for. He cleared his throat before he answered. "No. I just use over the counter stuff, or something that Ben cooks up, you know, whale blubber and moose membranes and stuff. It usually works."  
  
Kate studied him an extra heartbeat before she cracked a smile. "You're very funny."  
  
"Yeah? You think I'm kidding? You wouldn't believe the stuff he comes up with." Ray pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and held it out. "Smell."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Get a good whiff. What do you smell?"  
  
Kate took a careful sniff and then nodded as if she knew what he was going to say. "Lemon, right?"  
  
"Good nose. You want to know why I smell like lemon?"  
  
"Bug juice?"  
  
"Bug juice? How'd you know?"  
  
"Up here, it's not uncommon for people to make their own mosquito repellent. Apparently, Constable Fraser uses the old remedies. They're actually quite effective from what I've heard."  
  
Surprised, Ray relaxed, not feeling like quite the freak. "So, other people up here go around smelling like lemonade stands?"

Kate chuckled and shook her head. "Most of us just buy the commercial stuff. Sean and his mom still use it. Swears by it."  
  
"Sean?"  
  
"My husband."  
  
"Right, the shrink."  
  
Kate didn't miss the snarky tone. "I take it you don't like shrinks?"  
  
"Me, I got nothing against head jockeys unless they try to mess with my head."  
  
"Which is sort of the point."  
  
"Yeah, sort of. Nothing personal. I'm sure he's a nice guy." Ray sighed heavily and shut his eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and caged in. Shit. "Look, can we do this and get it over with?"  
  
"Sure. We've got some hospital trunks you can use for today, but tomorrow bring your own. We're going to go in the water, and then I'll see the full extent of what we need to do." He stood, but she stopped him. "I can't promise you that you'll be as good as new, Ray, but I can promise you this won't get any worse if you work with me."

  
Ray didn't say anything, just went along, hoping like hell she was as good at her job as she was at giving easy promises.

* * *

"I need some trunks."  
  
"Trunks?"  
  
"Yeah, swim trunks. Where do we get those?" Ray limped over to the Jeep and got behind the wheel.

Ben got in beside him and took a deep breath, wrinkling his nose. "Chlorine. So, you're doing hydrotherapy, I take it."  
  
"Yeah, so about those trunks."  
  
"The Outpost should have some. If not, there's a sporting shop a few blocks away."  
  
Ray started the engine and headed back to downtown again, the second time that day. Bone-tired, his leg ached, but he had to admit, it didn't feel as bad as he thought it would after all that PT abuse. "Ray?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you all right?"

"Fine, why?"  
  
"You seem rather reticent."  
  
"I'm tired, that's all."  
  
"I see."  
  
Changing the subject, Ray asked, "So, did you get a chance to talk to Chris yet?"  
  
"Actually, he called while you were in the session. He'll be at the cabin around midnight tonight to set up the watch."  
  
Ray turned and stared at his partner. "He's going to stay up all night?"  
  
"He and Eddie will likely take turns."  
  
Shaking his head, Ray didn't like that, didn't like the idea of someone losing sleep to protect him while he and Ben slept the night away. He turned his attention back to driving, but griped, "I hate this."  
  
"As do I. However, Chris has generously offered to help protect you and I accepted."  
  
"So, how much is he charging?"  
  
"Nothing."

"Nothing as in not a dime, free of charge?"

"Yes. He was quite adamant, in fact. I believe he would be insulted if we insisted on any monetary compensation."  
  
"You're kidding. How come?"  
  
Ben shifted in the seat, and then tugged at his ear, obviously hiding something. "You'd have to ask him."  
  
"I'm asking you. What'd he say?"  
  
Reluctantly, Ben answered, "Just that he was a fellow officer and that he knew about people like O'Malley."  
  
"He should still get paid, though. I mean, this shit could go on for no telling how long."  
  
"Perhaps, but I got the definite impression that he wanted to do this not only as a favor to us, but for more personal reasons. I didn't pry any deeper as to what those reasons might be. I merely accepted his kind offer."

"Yeah, well, I'm not afraid of a little prying. I'll talk to him tonight, see what's what."  
  
After a few moments, Ben asked, "So, I take it your session went all right?"  
  
"It went fine."  
  
"Are you in any pain?"  
  
Annoyance flared and Ray snapped, "I'm **fine** , Ben, stop asking."  
  
"Very well."  
  
Ray heard the hurt in his lover's voice and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little wound up. I don't want to talk about the therapy right now, okay?"  
  
"Understood."  
  
"It's just that it's so frustrating, you know? This lady, Kate, she's good, I know that, but I hate having to be there, having to keep doing this shit. Plus, it hurts like crazy."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Not your fault. It's my own fault. I shouldn't have let it get this bad. I should've kept up with the sessions at home. I just suck."  
  
"Ray, you don't suck."  
  
"Yeah, I do. It's stupid to let the leg thing get this bad."

"So, why did you?"  
  
"I said I didn't want to talk about it."  
  
"So you did. Sorry."  
  
"No, no, it's okay. I just, I don't know, I can't explain." Ray paused before he added, "It's just that every time I went, I got to thinking about why I was there."  
  
"Why you were there?"  
  
"Yeah, about what happened and whatshisname."  
  
"You mean Clooney?"  
  
"Yeah, whatshisname. I couldn't focus on getting my leg in shape because I was too busy getting swallowed up by all this other shit in my head, you know, shit about what happened."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Yeah? What do you see?"  
  
"That the physical therapy caused you emotional pain from your trauma, so much so, that you decided to forego the physical benefits rather than endure the personal anguish it triggered."  
  
"Something like that, yeah."  
  
"What about now? Do you think your present sessions will cause the same problem?"  
  
Ray shook his head. "I don't think so. Kate doesn't really give me any slack. There's not a lot of time for moping."  
  
"Kate?"  
  
"Yeah, my therapist. The other guy, he just told me what to do and I did it, sort of automatic. Kate makes me talk the whole time, makes sure I'm focusing on what's going on. No chance to really fall back into my head, you know?"  
  
"She sounds like a good therapist."  
  
"I guess. Busybody therapist, but okay."  
  
"Busybody? In what regard?"  
  
Ray pulled into the space in front of the shop and turned off the engine. "She's a friend of McClain's wife. She knew we were partners."  
  
"Well, she did see me when we arrived."  
  
"You're not in uniform, Ben. How'd she know who you were and that we were partners? Busybody, that's what."  
  
They sat in the car, not moving to get out. "Does that bother you, that she knows we're partners?"  
  
"No, but it bothers me that people were talking about us, people I don't even know."  
  
"Perhaps we should correct that."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Maybe it's time you met Alan's family."  
  
Ray snorted and shook his head as he reached for the door handle. He and Ben both got out of the car. "I don't think so."  
  
"Why not? It would be the perfect opportunity for us to thank them for the land and the welcoming gifts, the quilt and such."  
  
Ray stopped walking, waiting for a couple to pass by before he said, "You're serious."  


"Yes, quite serious. I'd like to do something gracious before they leave, a **bon voyage** party of sorts."  
  
" **Bon voyage** party, huh?"  
  
"Yes."

"You don't think we should maybe take care of me being on a hit list problem before we start inviting people out for parties?"  
  
The brief excitement drained away and Ben nodded with acceptance. "You're right, of course. I just want to do something nice before they leave. They've been terribly generous and I wanted to return the favor."  
  
"I get that, I do." As they headed inside, Ray opened the door for Ben. "We'll do something, I promise. Maybe make a So Long basket or something."  
  
"A So Long basket?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, fruit and candy and stuff. Stella used to send them to people who left the office. We'll do something like that if the whole kill Ray thing isn't cleared up before they leave."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
"You don't sound convinced."

"It's fine. A So Long basket it is."  
  
Ray knew that voice, that just go along with it, but not happy voice. Ben really wanted to do something special for his friend, and Ray understood that, he did, but still, he wanted nothing to do with getting cozy with McClain. Might be worth the party just to celebrate the guy getting lost and out of Ben's life, though. Ray gave in a little. "Might do something else. We'll talk about it later, okay?"  
  
"Certainly, Ray."

Walking to the back, they found the rack of swim trunks. Ray picked up a hanger with trunks made with fabric that looked like a tropical dessert exploded. "What the fuck?"  
  
Ben smiled and cocked his head. "I don't know, Ray. They could be quite fetching."  
  
"Fuck fetching. No way in hell I'm wearing these." Ray sorted through the whole rack and found nothing but bright colors and some spandex shit he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. "Doesn't look like they have much."  
  
"Perhaps they have more in the stockroom."  
  
"If not, we'll go to that other place."  
  
Ben motioned for the guy who ran the store. An older man walked over and smiled. "Hello, Constable Fraser. What can I do for you this afternoon?"  
  
"Good afternoon, Gus. My partner Ray and I are looking for some swimming trunks, size medium."  
  
Gus waved a hand, a gleam of mischief in his eye. "You don't like the new fashion? It's all the rage." 

"That might be, but we'd prefer something a bit more conservative, perhaps a solid navy blue or black?"  
  
"And no spandex, either. We just want something that won't show the goods, you know?"  
  
Gus stared at Ray for a minute and then suddenly laughed out loud. "Won't show the goods? That's a good one. I like that. You Americans, eh?"  
  
Ray kept his mouth shut and crossed his arms, letting Ben do all the talking. Canadians, jeez. "Do you have anything along those lines, Gus?"  
  
Gus nodded, still smiling. "Sure, in the back. We just keep this stuff out here for the tourists. Nobody who lives here ever buys it. You wouldn't believe the people who do, though." He motioned to the door behind the counter. "I'll go get you a few pairs to look at. I'll be right back."  
  
As soon as he left, Ray shook his head as he touched one of the ugly pairs of trunks. "I can't believe people wear this stuff."  
  
"People wear a lot of strange things, Ray."  
  
"Yeah, I know, like pumpkin pants."  
  
Ben straightened, feigning offense. "Ray, the uniform "  
  
"Yeah, I know, I know, it's a sacred tradition."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Gus returned with a stack of trunks, solid dark colors and a red pair. "I brought a few different sizes. They all fit differently. There's a dressing room in the back."  
  
Ray picked up a blue pair, held them across his hips. "No need. They'll do."  
  
"Ray, you really should try them on."  
  
"Forget about it." He put two pairs of navy trunks next to the register and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"  
  
Gus gave him a price and Ben translated into American. Ray paid for the trunks and then took the bag. "Thanks."  
  
Gus tipped his baseball hat and then smiled. "Welcome to the city, Ray. Hope you two enjoy your new place."  
  
Ray shook his head in amazement. "Does everyone in town know we're here?"  
  
Gus shrugged. "Don't know about everyone in town, but I heard it from Mimi. You want anyone to know anything, tell her, eh? She'll spread the word. She's better than the paper, you ask me. Why? Is it a secret?"  
  
Ben answered for them both. "No secret, Gus. Thank you kindly for the service."  
  
Once outside, Ray got in the car and waited for Ben to join him. He said, "You know if somebody wanted to find us, it wouldn't be hard."  
  
"No, I'm afraid in their enthusiasm about our return, some of our friends have unwittingly endangered us."

"So, what do we do?"  
  
"What we are doing, being careful and on guard."  
  
Ray banged his fist into the steering wheel, figuring that was better than kicking out the glass. "Looking over our shoulders all the time. God, I fucking hate this. I wish I could just go to O'Malley and tell him to fuck off, call a truce, rip his head off, just fucking be done with it."  
  
"He might well have called it off, Ray. We just don't know for sure. We have to be careful until there's more certainty about the situation."  
  
"Still makes me crazy. None of this would've happened if I'd done what I was told, kept out of it like everybody said. But no, I had to stick my nose in, try to play super cop. Now a kid's dead and I've got a target on my back."  
  
Ben's hand settled on his shoulder and gave a quick squeeze. "None of this is your fault, Ray."  
  
"Tell that to Martin Jones."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"Don't." Ray shook off Ben's hand and started the engine, his anger roaring in his ears. "Let's just go home. I'm tired of all this shit right now."  
  
"Let me drive."  
  
"I can drive."  
  
"You're upset. You shouldn't drive in this mental state."  
  
Snorting, Ray headed back to the highway. "Clue here, Ben. Driving in this mental state calms me down, burns off the steam, makes things settle into place."  
  
"Still, I'd feel better if I drove."  
  
"And I'd feel better if you'd stop nagging. I'm fine."  
  
Stubborn as always, Ben didn't give up. "You're not fine. Pull over."  
  
"No."  
  
"No? Ray, I said pull over."  
  
Not knowing whether to be pissed or amused, Ray glanced over. "What are you going to do, arrest me?"  
  
"I might."  
  
"On what charge, driving while pissed off?"

Ben frowned and rubbed his right eyebrow. "Did I ever tell you the story about how my father once arrested my mother for speeding?"  
  
"No, and I'm not speeding."  
  
"I know that, but the point is "  
  
"The point is, your dad's a nut and his son's about as bad sometimes." Ray continued before Ben had a chance to say anything in his defense. "Look, I'm fine now. I'm not going too fast or breaking any laws. Just don't get all twitchy on me. I can drive in my sleep even in Chicago rush hour. Yellowknife's a piece of cake."  
  
"I worry."  
  
"Too much.'  
  
Ben sat back, but didn't relax. "Perhaps. Still, I wish you'd let me drive."  
  
Suddenly fed up, Ray swerved and braked far too fast as he pulled over. "You want to fucking drive, drive. See if I care." Ray got out of the car, stomping and walking up and down the side of the road, kicking rocks and dirt before he finally climbed back into the passenger's side several minutes later. Calmer, he buckled his seat belt before he risked looking over at Ben. "Sorry."

"You want to tell me what that was really about?"  
  
"I like to drive, that's all."  
  
"That outburst had nothing to do with driving, Ray."  
  
Closing his eyes, Ray shook his head. "I've got no idea what it was about. I just get frustrated with all this shit. It never seems to end."  
  
"And you think vehicular homicide is the answer?"  
  
Too tired to fight anymore, Ray motioned for Ben to get going. "I want to go home. We'll fight later."  
  
"I don't want to fight, Ray."  
  
"Me, neither." Ray kept his eyes squeezed shut tightly, his insides still shaking, as Ben pulled back on the road and drove. "Ben."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I really am a good driver. I mean, that's one of the few things I'm really good at."  
  
"You're talented in a lot of areas. While I might not always approve of your style, I will admit that you certainly are quite skilled behind the wheel. However "  
  
"However what?"  
  
"However, when you're angry, your driving ability can be somewhat impaired. I'd much prefer not to compound our problems by crashing."  
  
"You'll let me drive a car on fire into Lake Michigan, but you don't want me driving here?"  
  
"On the contrary, Ray, you can drive here as long as you remain calm and collected."  
  
"Fuck."  
  
"Ray, language."  
  
"Fuck language, fuck calm. I'm a good driver, Ben, better than you. Hell, it's one of the few things I do better than you."  
  
Puzzled, Ben glanced over and asked, "What other things do you think you do better than I do, Ray?"  
  
"Not much."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"Going on instinct for one."  
  
"Granted. What else?"  
  
"Nothing else."  
  
Ben didn't give up, but asked again. "I don't believe you believe that, Ray. What else?"  
  
"It's not a big deal."  
  
More curious, Ben pushed. "If, indeed, it's not a big deal as you call it, what is it?"  
  
Reluctantly, Ray decided to say what he'd been holding back, not sure how Ben would take it. "I'm more spontaneous."  
  
"Spontaneous?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, spur of the moment, not planning stuff down to the last minute kind of thing."  
  
"I know what spontaneous means, Ray. I'm just not sure what it has to do with anything. Are you saying you think I can't be spontaneous?"  
  
"I'm not saying you can't be, I'm just saying I'm better at it than you."  
  
Ben didn't speak for several moments. Finally, he drove with one hand and stroked his right eyebrow even harder than before, his voice strained. "Does my rigidity to planning and schedules bother you that much?"  
  
"No. Somebody's got to have a plan."  
  
"But "

"Look, it wasn't a complaint, all right? It was just one of those things, one of those observation things. You like order, detail, all those little things that make life run smooth, you know, fewer snags, fewer hitches. I got nothing against that. I just never have been good at it. I've always been more of a fly by the seat of your pants kind of guy. What happens, happens. Go with it."  
  
"One has to have some impulse control, Ray."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Yeah, why? I mean, why not do what you want, when you want, when you can?"

"Because often it's inappropriate or ill-timed."  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Ray, now you're just being argumentative."  
  
"No, I'm not. I'm just saying that sometimes you need to cut loose, not be so straight-laced all the time. Let down your Mountie hair more, that's all."  
  
"Let down my Mountie hair? That's just silly, Ray."  
  
Ray's tone suddenly changed, growing husky, as he reached over and teased his fingers along the back of Ben's neck, up into his hair. He loved watching Ben get all worked up sometimes. It turned him on, so he went with it. "Silly to you, fun for me."

Being the quick Mountie he was, Ben pushed a little harder on the gas and headed home faster. "Right you are, Ray. Spontaneity it is."

* * *

"So much for impulse control." Ray grinned as Ben lay all sweaty and spent across his body. Running his fingertips up and along Ben's back, Ray sighed. "That was nice."

"I assure you, I **can** be spontaneous."  
  
Ray laughed, knowing full well how much Ben worked hard to break free of old habits, to loosen up on the routine and structure hammered into him for years by the force and his grandparents. "Sure can. You did good."

Ben groaned against Ray's skin and lifted his head. "As did you, Ray. Thank you."  
  
"No _,_ **thank** you. That felt good, real good." Ray couldn't remember the last time they'd done that, just fucked around in the afternoon, all lazy and shit. It'd been too long since he'd even wanted to do that, get his equal share of getting off. Seemed like his sex drive might finally be kicking back in, his dick happy about getting back in the game for a change. 

Easing himself off and over, Ben settled beside him, taking a casual lick of Ray's nipple. Ray shivered and Ben did it again. "Feels good."  
  
"Tastes good, too."  
  
Ray smiled, his mind flooded with images of Ben licking things all over Chicago and then licking him in all the right places in their bed. "You and your tongue. Jesus."  
  
Ben didn't lick him again, but he gently pinched the nipple, still playing with it as he spoke quietly. "I was under the distinct impression that you liked my tongue."  
  
"I **love** your tongue." Ray closed his eyes, wallowing in the lovely sensation of having his nipples tweaked and fiddled with by a skillful Mountie. His dick twitched, still not completely erect from fucking Ben a while ago, but working hard to get back to its full glory. "I love you, all of you."  
  
Ben kissed him and whispered, "I love you, too, Ray. That was a lovely surprise."  
  
"Yeah? You liked that, did ya?"  
  
"I did. Very much so."  
  
"You freak."  
  
"Your freak."  
  
Ray rolled toward Ben and kissed him again, his own tongue taking a tour of Ben's mouth. He pulled back and took one last swipe across Ben's lower lip. "I missed this."

"This?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, just being together like this."  
  
"As have I."  
  
"You never complained."  
  
"Why should I complain, Ray? You couldn't help that your libido was affected by the trauma."  
  
"Seems to be working up to full throttle now, though, huh?"

"So it would appear."  
  
"Full speed ahead, I say."  
  
Ben laughed, his eyes wrinkled around the edges and twinkling. "Indeed."  
  
Ray kissed him again, this time taking care to run his hand down between Ben's legs and stroking his half-erect dick. Deep groans filled his mouth as Ben responded to his touches. Ray pulled back, taking in the full picture of Ben's sweaty face, the flush of excitement that colored his skin. "You want to try for one more?"  
  
"I'm not as young as I used to be, Ray. Once more might be a bit optimistic."

"You don't think we can do it?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"Good thing." Ray fondled Ben's balls and watched his lover's head drop back against the pillow, his eyes rolled back in his head. His own dick got happy, erect and twitchy, ready for another round, hot with the idea of fucking Ben again, of doing him twice in less than an hour and Ben loving it, wanting it. "You want me to do you again? Is that what you want? Tell me." He licked Ben's exposed throat, and then nipped at the Adam's apple. Ben grunted and shivered all over. "I'll take that as a yes."  
  
Instead of talking, Ben opened his eyes, the blue nearly gone, his pupils dilated to black. He reached up and caressed Ray's face, ran his fingertip along his jaw line. Ben lifted himself for a brief kiss and then turned over on his stomach. They'd done it face-to-face earlier, but face down was Ben's favorite position. Doggie style was something that turned Ray on more than he liked to admit. After all he'd been through, Ben gave himself without holding back, completely vulnerable, trusting Ray not to hurt him, to make it all good. Trust, the big T, a gift Ray took very seriously.  
  
Ray reached over and rolled another condom on and guided Ben to his knees. He held one hand on Ben's hips to hold him steady. Still slick and stretched from before, Ben didn't need much in the way of getting ready. Ray just eased inside, stretching the hole, the tight muscle grabbing just slightly before letting him slide inside, a few inches at a time with each thrust. Buried fully, Ray lay across Ben's back, his partner's deep panting a real turn on. He nipped Ben's ear before he whispered, "I love you."  
  
Ben nodded, but didn't speak, his body shaking and covered with sweat. One hand on his own dick, Ben stroked as he pushed back against Ray, urging him to fuck him, to do it hard, the way he liked. Ray took the hint and got busy, pumping hard, matching his push to Ben's shove back. His brain dazzled at the sensation of fucking Ben, of being able to hammer into him, the deep moans of pleasure cheering him on. His whole body rippled with pleasure right before Ben jerked hard several times, grunting and then falling forward. The position change increased the pressure on Ray's dick. A few more thrusts and Ray's dick exploded along with his head. Bright reds and yellows blew up behind his eyelids and his gut contracted with the powerful punch of getting off, of falling into the deep well of coming. He collapsed across Ben's back, still buried inside, too overwhelmed to budge. Heaven couldn't be any better than being inside Ben, knowing that Ben wanted him like that, wanted and loved him beyond all others.

It took several long moments before Ray breathed again, his lungs achy and his mind and dick still swimming with the delicious rush of joy that came from making love to Ben. Nothing he ever had with Stella prepared him for the force of that love, that connection that gobbled up any good sense he might have about anything or anybody. Ben was his world, his love, the one person in his life that truly got what it meant to be Ray. 

It took a raspy voice to bring him back to his senses. "Ray, are you all right?"  
  
"I'm good. You?"

"Better than good."  
  
"But going to be squashed flat if I don't get off you, right?"

Still a bit breathless, Ben chuckled. "I'm fine, Ray. Squash away."  
  
Ray kissed the back of Ben's neck, grateful that Dief stood on guard outside the cabin. They could lose it together, make love again, and forget for a while that life wasn't as simple as just relaxing and fucking in the woods.

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me?"  
  
Ray sat at the supper table and looked up from finishing off the last slice of fresh bread, two or three crumbs sticking to his lips. "What?"  
  
"You don't want to have a going away party for Alan and his family, but you do want to invite Stevie Garvey, a man you've just heard of, to a meal. I have to ask myself, why is that?"  
  
Ray sat back, wiped his mouth, and thought carefully a few extra moments. He needed to get this right, not fool around and fuck up. "You want to stay here, right?"  
  
Ben moved from the sink of dishes and sat back down across from Ray. "That depends on you, Ray. You're the one who has to decide what you want. I can live here or in Chicago. It doesn't matter to me."  
  
"Don't do that."  
  
"Don't do what?"  
  
Ray shook his head and waved a hand in frustration. " **That**. That thing you do where it's all back on me, it's only about what Ray wants, like what you want doesn't matter. I hate that."  
  
Ben took a deep breath, not angry, but hurt. "I'm sorry, but that's how I feel. I want you to be happy."  
  
Leaning in, Ray took Ben's hand in his and squeezed gently, but firmly. "Listen, I get that, I do, but we've talked about this. We have to be on the same page here. We both have to get what we want out of this whole deal, not just me." Ray squeezed again and asked, "So, tell me what you want. Do you want to stay or not?"  
  
Ben studied him closely for a moment, his tongue darting out across his lower lip as he hesitated. Finally, he answered, still not sure of Ray's response. "I'd like to stay. I think for now that's our best course of action."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Yeah, why do you want to stay? Is it just for me or do you miss being here?"  
  
"Both."  
  
Smiling, Ray nodded. "Good."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"You're being honest."  
  
In his affronted like hell voice, Ben snipped, "I always strive to be honest."  
  
"Yeah, well, mostly you are, but sometimes you hedge if you dont think I'm going to like what you say." Before Ben could interrupt, Ray raised his free hand to stall. "It's okay. I do the same thing. It's called being married. We both want the other guy to be happy."  
  
Ben's serious expression softened. "Is that what it's like being married, always thinking about the needs of the other person before your own desires?"  
  
"Mostly, yeah. You get selfish sometimes, but mostly, yeah, you want the other person to get first dibs on feeling good and that makes you feel good, too. I don't know why it's like that, but it is."  
  
Rubbing Ray's gold wedding ring with his fingers, Ben whispered, "I like being married to you, Ray."  
  
Ray reached over and cupped Ben's face, lifting himself up enough to lean over and kiss him briefly. "Me, too."  
  
Relaxing, Ben still held Ray's hand, apparently intent on keeping contact. "What does this have to do with inviting Stevie Garvey to visit?

Time to come clean with his plan, Ray explained, "If we stay here, we need to make some changes."  
  
"Changes? What kind of changes?"  
  
"I want an inside can, Ben. I mean, I guess I could get used to freezing my balls off six months out of the year, but I don't want to. I figure if we stay, we put in a toilet for sure and maybe even go crazy, go gaga, and put in a shower, too."  
  
Ben's eyes widened and brightened. "You want Stevie to make renovations?"  
  
"Yeah. I figure you bought the place, I can pay for the upgrade."  
  
"That's not necessary, Ray."  
  
"It is. If I'm living here, I pay my way. So, you think the kid can do that, put in a can that'll work when it's a million degrees below zero?"  
  
Ben shook his head in amusement, chuckling. "We wouldnt need one at a million degrees below zero, Ray. The world would be frozen."  
  
"You know what I'm saying. Can he put one in that won't freeze up all the time or not?"  
  
"There are things to be done that will keep that from happening, yes. I believe one puts in a hot water valve so that the tank and the system doesn't freeze up."  
  
"Hot water? You mean we could have hot water, like the kind of hot water we don't have to boil on the stove?"  
  
"If we put in a water closet, yes, we'd have hot water. I could talk to Stevie about the specifics, whether we want to use solar, wind, or propane energies, but yes, we could have both hot water and electricity installed throughout the cabin."

"Six months of pretty much all dark, how's that work with solar?"  
  
"Not well, but during the spring and summer, it would be ideal. We could use a combination of wind, propane, and wood burning for the other months."  
  
Ray grinned, wanting more than anything to see it all come together. "So, you're okay with that, putting in a can?"  
  
"More than okay, Ray. I could draw up plans to add not only the bathroom facility, but a separate bedroom as well. We could make the living area a bit larger so that we would have room for a closet/pantry and an area for your artwork, too. I'd also like to see about getting an outer storage building built. If we stay, we need to have a place to put the vehicles."

"Vehicles, as in more than one?"  
  
"You'd need transportation as well, Ray. We'd get vehicles for both of us."  
  
Eyes stinging, Ray could see the place in his head, could see himself actually working on his pictures, driving his own car. It wouldn't be the GTO, not a car meant for the snow, but he could get something sweet, a Jeep Cherokee maybe. The whole thing might actually work. "I think we should do it, the sooner the better."  
  
"What about Chicago?"

Ray sobered, thinking about the calls he needed to make, calls he didn't look forward to one bit. He'd be letting down a lot of people, but in the end, he couldn't face that life anymore, not and stay sober. If he lost it, if he started drinking again, he'd lose Ben, lose himself. No, Chicago was history, a dead end, a place he no longer wanted to ever see again. "I'll call Welsh, let him know I'm not coming back. Captain Turner, too."  
  
"They won't be happy."  
  
"They'll understand though. I figure they're both amazed I've hung around as long as I have."  
  
"It'll be difficult."

"Might not be. I mean, anybody with a pair of eyes saw this coming. I was screwing up, Ben. Kids getting killed, people dying all over. The whole Vecchio thing's a mess anyway. Anybody with a lick of sense and half a brain could see that."  
  
Ben shook his head. "You didn't screw up, as you say, Ray. The situation "  
  
"Was crap, I know. Anyway, the feds will just have to figure out how to do the whole thing without me."

"Special Agent Crenshaw will likely do his best to persuade you to return."

"Too bad for him. Federal assholes can bring in some other sap to play the patsy, I'm done with it."

"They won't like it."  
  
Suddenly angry, the good mood about the move evaporated completely. Ray stood up and paced the small space, his right hand running through his hair. "Too fucking bad. I didn't like it when they hung my ass out in the wind, either. Screw them. I want my fucking life back."

Ben moved in beside him, drawing him into his arms. "It'll be fine, Ray. We'll sort through all the details later."  
  
Ray relaxed slightly, letting his head drop to Ben's broad shoulder. "I can't go back, Ben, not even to get my stuff. I just can't. Chicago's dead to me."  
  
"You don't mean that. Given time "  
  
Ray lifted his head, determined to make Ben understand. "I do mean it. I don't want to go back, ever. There's nothing for me there, well, except Turtle, but that can't be helped. Maybe we can have him shipped up here or something. The rest I don't even care about."  
  
"What about your parents?"  
  
"I haven't talked to them since Christmas. They won't miss me."  
  
"But you'll miss them."  
  
"I'll live." Ray pulled away and sat back down, rubbing his chin with his right hand. "When this thing is over, this thing with O'Malley, I'll write, let them know where I am. That's it. The rest is up to them. They'll know where I am if they want to bother." Desperate to change the subject, Ray asked, "What about you? How hard will it be to get that transfer to Yellowknife?"

Ben sat down, his face even more serious. "I can call Inspector Thatcher. She indicated that she'd be more than happy to expedite the transfer."  
  
"You sure? I mean, that means no more staring at your ass in pumpkin pants for free and getting all hot and bothered."  
  
Ben flushed slightly pink, but he smiled patiently. "Ray, I can assure you that the Inspector has no designs on my person."  
  
"And I'm the Prime Minister of North Pole."  
  
"I don't believe the North Pole has a Prime Minister as such. Besides, she knows I'm with you now and she's come to accept that."  
  
"Yeah? About damn time."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Ray laughed, the mood suddenly lighter again. "So, she can do that, expewhatever your transfer?"  
  
"Expedite, and, yes, I believe so. She carries quite a bit of influence with Ottawa. In addition, if I need any other advantage, I might ask Buck to put in a good word."  
  
"So, you really think the bigwigs will let you off the hook, finally let you come back home?"  
  
"I hope so, yes."  
  
"And if they don't?"  
  
"As my grandmother always said, don't go borrowing trouble."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause my grandmother always said, it'll find your skinny ass no matter what, anyway."

"I dont believe your grandmother said that, Ray."  
  
Ray leaned back and crossed his arms, a big grin on his face. "You didn't know Nana. She was a wise old bird. She said a lot of other things, too, like my favorite, expect the worst and you won't be disappointed."  
  
"Is that a Polish thing, being so pessimistic?"  
  
"I think it's a Kowalski thing. Don't know if it's Polish or just common sense. Either way, it's pretty much what happens."  
  
"On the contrary, Ray "  
  
"Don't start." Ray held up a hand. "I dont want a lecture about being pie in the sky and looking for all the good stuff in a world full of shit." Lowering his voice, Ray leaned in and whispered, "I just want this to happen, Ben, for us to be okay here."  
  
Ben reached over and took Ray's hand again, kissed it, and smiled. "I have faith, Ray. We're going to be fine."  
  
Still reluctant to buy into the whole optimism thing, Ray shook his head. "You and your faith."  
  
"My faith has gotten me through some difficult times."  
  
Reluctantly, Ray had to agree. "Yeah, it has. It's gotten us both through tough times."  
  
"Please allow me to have faith now."  
  
"You're allowed. I'm not saying different. Im just saying its not easy for me to see the rainbows through all the dark clouds, you know?"  
  
"Then allow me to have faith for both of us for the time being."  
  
"Yeah, okay, fine, have faith. Knock yourself out." Ray took a deep breath and squeezed Ben's hand before releasing it. Suddenly wound up and tense, he needed to get moving. "I'm going for a walk or something. I'm jumping out of my skin here."  
  
"What about your leg?"  
  
Ray shrugged, rubbing the top part of his right thigh. "A little stiff, but not bad considering. Actually, it feels a lot better than it has in a while."  
  
"That's good. Let me finish cleaning up supper and I'll go with you."  
  
"I dont need a bodyguard, Ben."  
  
Ben paused, studying him a few moments before he spoke. "I **want** to go with you, Ray."  
  
Ray laughed out loud. "So, now you're getting the message, huh? You tell me what you want instead of waiting for me to say what I want first. That's good, Ben. You're learning."  
  
"I try."  
  
"So how about I help you clean up and then we go walking? Then we can do a little body check when we get back. Check for nasty ticks and bugs and stuff." Ray kissed Ben's cheek and then whispered in his ear, "You check me, first, okay?"  
  
Ben turned pink, cleared his throat, and then broke a speed record cleaning up the dishes.

* * *

Ray figured Chris for the punctual type and he was right. Frame and his partner showed up at midnight on the dot, parking their car about fifty feet down the lane from the cabin. Diefenbaker did a little half-bark to announce their arrival, a wolf alarm at its best.

Lying in bed, Ray turned his head to talk to Ben's back. "I should take some coffee out to them or something."  
  
"If they wanted anything, Ray, they'd ask."  
  
"Yeah, but they're doing this for nothing. The least we can do is give the guys some free java."  
  
Ben rolled over and touched his face, then trailed his fingers down Ray's neck. "I'll go down and ask."  
  
"I can do that."  
  
"The point is to protect you, Ray. You walking around unguarded rather defeats the purpose."

"I know, but "  
  
"Ray, you should be sleeping."  
  
"So should you."  
  
"I will now that Chris and Eddie are here." Ray sighed heavily and put his arm over his eyes. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I can't sleep."  
  
"You've had a long day. You should be tired."  
  
"I am. Dog-tired. I just can't sleep. It's too light. It's midnight and it feels like noon."  
  
Ben got up, moving out from under the mosquito netting, and went to the window. He pulled the blackout curtains a little bit closer together, shutting out any and all light that he could. Even so, the cabin wasn't completely dark, not like Ray wanted. When he came back to bed, Ray complained, "I tried that earlier. Didnt work."  
  
"So I see. Perhaps tomorrow, when we go into town, we might buy a mask of some kind to block out the remaining light. For now, why don't you use one of my handkerchiefs over your eyes to block the light?"  
  
Ray shook his head and shifted further up on the pillow, propping himself up on his elbow. "Doesn't it bother you, all this light when it's supposed to be dark?"  
  
"Not really. I suppose I got used to it as a child in Inuvik."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I can sleep almost anywhere, Ray."  
  
"I know. I've seen you. Lucky dog. I know when I was first starting out as a cop, I worked swing shift, sometimes nights, sometimes days. Days were killers when I was on nights. I'd be cranky as hell for weeks because I couldn't sleep. I tried everything, masks, whiskey, bedspreads over the windows, everything. Nothing worked."

"I'm sorry, Ray."  
  
"Not your fault."  
  
Ben thought for a minute before scooting closer to Ray. "What about a lullaby?"  
  
"Lullaby, like singing to a baby?"  
  
"Yes. I could sing you a lullaby to relax you."  
  
Sighing heavily, fully doubting the plan, Ray reluctantly gave in. "Can't hurt to give it a try." Settling back down, Ray closed his eyes and crossed his arms, knowing full well there was no way in hell it would work. "Okay, go ahead. Hit me with your best shot."  
  
"Ray, I'm not going to hit you."  
  
"I dont mean **hit me** hit me, I mean start singing and see what happens."  
  
"Ah, I see. Very well, but first you need to relax. Unfold your arms and put them to your sides."  
  
Following directions, Ray did that. "Okay, now what?"  
  
Ben's hands touched Ray's arms, rubbing gently up and down, his voice like velvet. Ray shivered at both the touch and one of his favorite sounds, Ben's singing voice. The song wasn't "Rock-a-bye Baby", but it was nice, soothing, like an easy dance with a simple rhythm. He had no idea what the words meant, but it was pleasant, sort of like listening to birds in the early morning before traffic got heavy. After a few minutes, muscles did ease and his mind drifted with the music. The bed shifted as Ben settled beside him, still singing quietly. The last thing he remembered was Ben rubbing his belly as he sang sweetly into Ray's ear.

* * *

Around six, Fraser walked down the long driveway carrying a thermos of black coffee. Chris Frame got out of the car and greeted him with a whisper. "Morning."  
  
Ben eyed the sleeping figure of Eddie Banks in the passenger side of the car and kept his voice low as well. "Good morning. I see Eddie managed to get some rest despite the uncomfortable circumstance."  
  
"Yeah, he dropped off around four. It was quiet all night, nothing stirring anywhere."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"Agreed." Chris reached inside the car, got his empty coffee cup, and held it out as Ben unscrewed the cap of the thermos. He filled the mug before Chris spoke again. "I did a walk around the perimeter of the cabin a few times. If anyone did try to sneak up, they'd have a hard time. The direct area around the cabin is cleared and your wolf's a pretty good watchdog."  
  
"He is good, but having you here as well allowed for a greater measure of reassurance while we rested. I appreciate that."  
  
"Not a problem. We can come earlier if you need us."  
  
"No, I think midnight again tonight will be fine."  
  
Chris leaned back against the car and sipped the coffee as he stared out at the morning horizon. "How's he doing?"  
  
"He's still sleeping."  
  
"Heard you singing last night."  
  
Surprised, Ben studied him for a moment. "You heard me singing from here?"  
  
"No, I was doing an initial walk around. Heard you through the window."  
  
Disconcerted that Chris overheard such an intimate moment without him realizing it, Ben cleared his throat and kept his response simple. "Ah."  
  
"You've got a nice voice. Didn't recognize the song though. Sounded Inuit."  
  
"Thank you, and, yes, it was an Inuit lullaby."  
  
"You sing Inuit?"  
  
"Yes, as well as a number of other languages. Ray couldn't sleep. I'm afraid the extended daylight hours has interrupted his biorhythms somewhat."  
  
Chris snorted lightly and nodded with the appreciation of someone who'd been there. "First year we were up here, it took forever to get used to. Curtains, masks, not much helped." Chris motioned toward his sleeping partner. "Eddie went on hyper drive there for a while, would work until he literally dropped. Took us a couple of seasons to adapt, but we did. Personally, I'll take it over winter any day. That's when you've got to keep busy or eat your gun. Ray will get the hang of living here eventually."  
  
Ben nodded, his throat choked with the idea that he and Ray might actually stay there long enough for that to happen. He hated to admit to himself just how much that meant to him, that Ray was willing to give up his life in Chicago and move to Canada, to make a home together. After a few moments of silence, Chris interrupted his thoughts. "So, did it help?"  
  
"Did what help?"  
  
"The lullaby."  
  
"Yes, it did actually."  
  
"Good. I'll remember that next time Eddie can't sleep."  
  
"You sing?"  
  
Chris looked at him a long moment and grinned. "Good point. Might have to get you to record what you were singing and use it instead."  
  
Ben flushed slightly, not sure if Chris really meant what he said. He found the man difficult to read sometimes, his humor a bit unsettling. "I'd be glad to record it, if you'd like."  
  
"I'll let you know. Meanwhile, I should go and get sleepyhead tucked in."  
  
"What about you? Shouldn't you get some rest as well?"

Chris chuckled and finished off his coffee. "Believe me, Fraser, I'll be tucked in right beside him." Before he opened the car door, he sobered and added, "You need us, you call. Got it?"  
  
"Yes, thank you."  
  
"I mean it. Don't think that just because everything's quiet and peaceful that something can't happen. That's how these guys work. They bide their time, wait in the shadows until you're lulled into thinking everything fine, that you're safe. That's when they hit, when you least expect it, so expect it."  
  
"I will." Ben paused, his curiosity about the ex-cop growing stronger. "You sound like you know from personal experience."  
  
Chris's eyes narrowed and his expression darkened. "Let's just say, I let my guard down once when I shouldnt have and someone else paid the price. It'll never happen again, got it?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
"Good. By the way, Eddie wanted me to invite you two to supper tonight if you're interested."  
  
"I'll talk to Ray and get back to you."  
  
"All right then. Call after three. Later." Chris got in the car, started the engine, and left, while Eddie slept soundly. 

As they drove off, Fraser turned around to head back inside only to be greeted by his father. "Hello, Son."  
  
"Dad."  
  
"He's a good man."  
  
"Seems to be, yes."  
  
"And he's right, the Yank will get used to it here. Just give him time."  
  
Ben walked up the driveway with his father keeping pace right beside him. "It's Ray, Dad. We're married. Calling him the Yank is rather avoiding the issue, don't you think?"  
  
"Well, he is a Yank, Son. Marriage doesn't change that, well, unless he files the papers and becomes a citizen. Does he plan to do that?"  
  
"I don't know. Perhaps. Will you call him the Canadian if he does?"  
  
"Don't be silly. Son will do."  
  
Ben smiled and shook his head in amusement. It'd been a long time since his father had made him grin and not want to tear his hair out. "What do you want, Dad?"  
  
"Can't a father just check in? Does there always have to be a reason for a visit?"  
  
Fraser stopped and met the pale eyes. "I dont have time for this, Dad. I want to make breakfast for Ray. We've got a long day ahead."

Ignoring his plea to get on with it, his father went right on talking. "Buck loves the land, by the way. Smart move selling it to him. Buck's family, not some stranger who won't respect the place."  
  
"Dad "  
  
"All right, all right. Lord, you've got the patience of a heat-crazed beaver." His father took a step closer, his voice low, more confidential. "Things are going to happen, very quickly, too."  
  
Chilled, Ben straightened. "Do you know what things?"  
  
"No, not exactly, but I feel it. There's a big change on the way."  
  
"Change? What change?"  
  
"I wish I could say more. I just don't know, not the details anyway, but I can feel it. It's in the air. I thought I should drop by and tell you."  
  
Frustrated, Ben snapped, "But you haven't told me anything."  
  
"All I can tell you that I see the shadows lifting, not completely, but some."  
  
"Shadows?"  
  
"Around the Yank. He's better and his future is clearer, that's all I can say."  
  
Relieved, Ben relaxed slightly. "So, these changes might be for the better, might mean that he's safe now?"  
  
"I didn't say that. Can't let down your guard, but I think you're in for some surprises."  
  
"I don't like surprises."  
  
"Certainly you do. You've always liked surprises."  
  
Irritated that his father still didn't know him very well even after being dead, Ben shook his head. "I don't, not in general and certainly not when it comes to Ray's safety and wellbeing."  
  
"Even when they're good surprises?"  
  
"Well, if they're good, perhaps, but "  
  
His father thumbed and tapped his nose, like he did when he wanted to say he was still watching out from the hereafter. "Just keep doing what you're doing, Son. You might not see me as often, what with me helping Buck rebuild my place, but I'm still around, keeping my eyes and ears open." He motioned toward the cabin. "He's waking up. You should probably get back inside."  
  
"You could stay and "  
  
"Perhaps another time."  
  
Not ready for his father to leave, wanting to share his good news, Ben added, "Dad?"  
  
"Yes, Son?"  
  
"I think we're going to stay here, Ray and I."  
  
The ghost smiled, nodding as he faded, just a familiar voice in the air. "I know, Son. It's about time. Welcome home."

* * *

Ray jerked awake, a massive cramp tearing up through his right leg. "Shit."  
  
"Ray?"  
  
"My leg." Ray sat up, grabbing the muscles in his calf, rubbing hard to ease the pain. "Fuck!"  
  
Ben kneeled quickly beside him, his hands immediately massaging the leg. "Let me." His strong fingers worked hard and in just a few moments the pain eased, leaving a shadow of an ache behind. "Better?"  
  
"Yeah, thanks." For the first time, he noticed Ben was already dressed. "How long you been up?"  
  
"Not long. I took Chris and Eddie coffee before they left."  
  
"They're gone already?"  
  
"Yes. Just a few minutes ago."  
  
Ray ran a hand through his bed head. "Too bad. I wanted to talk to Frame."  
  
"You could talk to him tonight. They asked us to supper. Would you like to go?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Let me think about it."

"All right. Even if we dont accept the invitation, they'll be back for guard duty tonight."  
  
Sick at heart, Ray shook his head. "For how long, a few nights, weeks, months? How long are we supposed to worry about this shit?"  
  
"As long as we need to." Ben rose to his feet and stepped to the stove. "Would you like some coffee?"  
  
"Yeah, in a little bit. I have to walk a little and go to the can."  
  
"A muscle cramp isn't that unexpected considering how much work you did yesterday, Ray."

"Yeah, I know. Still hurts like hell though."  
  
"Yes, it does." 

Ray pulled on his jeans and his boots before standing. After grabbing and putting on his white T-shirt, he walked over to Ben and kissed him briefly. "Morning."  
  
Ben captured the back of Ray's neck and pulled him in for a longer, more thorough greeting. His tongue took its time, all thick and hot, tasting a lot like tea with a touch of mint. When he pulled back, Ben whispered, "Good morning to you, too, Ray."

"Wow, nice way to start the day, a lot better than a cramp, let me tell ya."  
  
Ben chuckled as he turned back to whipping the eggs in a bowl. "I should hope so. I also hope you want your eggs scrambled."  
  
"Don't I always?"  
  
"Well, spontaneity being what it is, I thought you might change your mind and opt for something more exotic."  
  
Ray smacked him in the back of the head lightly. "Spontaneity is good, spontaneity is greatness, but I've got all the exotic I can handle when it comes to you, you crazy Canadian."  
  
Smiling, Ben's morning fresh blue eyes met Ray's. "Thank you kindly. I feel the same way."

"You think I'm exotic?"  
  
"I'd go so far as to say unique as well."

Ray leaned his hip against the counter, his arms wrapped around his chest. "Yeah? Takes one to know one. I think we're both pretty big freaks."  
  
Ben's expression softened. He put down the spoon and bowl of eggs before wrapping Ray in his arms, drawing him to him. "I love being your freak, Ray."  
  
"Same here, buddy." They kissed again, but Ray pulled back. "Sorry, got to go to the can." He held up a finger and grinned. "Hold that thought, though. I'll be back."

"I should go with you."  
  
The romantic mood vanished, poof, all gone. Remembering that he might be a target at any time sort of took the edge off the good feeling. "I'll take the rifle. Don't worry."  
  
Ben cupped his face, noting the shift in mood. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I know."  
  
As Ray picked up the rifle, he stopped and turned. "We pick up my gun from McClain today, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. Hope you shipped my holster, too."  
  
"I did."  
  
"You thought of everything, huh?"  
  
"Everything but how to make this whole threat go away."  
  
Ray saw the terrible weight that his partner carried, regretted like hell that Ben was in the middle of all the shit because of him. "It's okay, Ben. We'll be okay."  
  
Ben smiled, but not in his eyes, not where it counted, not like he really believed it yet. "Yes, Ray, we will."

* * *

"Welcome to Canada." Alan McClain stood behind the counter, just another handsome Mountie guy, and greeted them as the walked into the main office of the RMCP headquarters.  
  
Ben took off his hat. "Thank you, Alan. We're glad to be here."  
  
Ray waved and nodded, trying to remember all the good stuff that the guy had done and ignore the itchy jealousy that niggled every time Alan and Ben got in the same room. "Yeah, yeah, thanks. You got something for me?"  
  
"Indeed, I do, Detective." McClain put a box on the counter along with a sheet of paper. "You need to sign this and you'll have a temporary license to carry your weapon."  
  
"Temporary? How temporary?"  
  
"For thirty days, but you can reapply if need be."  
  
Ben answered for them both. "We hope that won't be necessary. We appreciate your efforts on our behalf, Alan."  
  
"Not a problem."  
  
Ray signed the paper. In exchange, he got a license and permission to carry a weapon. He slipped the license into his wallet and then went to open the box. McClain put his hand out to stop him. "Not here. Let's go in the conference room where it's less public."

Ray shrugged, agreeing that it was probably best that people not see the crazy American strap on heat. "Sure, okay."  
  
The three men went into the room and Ray opened the box. He checked the gun and the extra ammunition quickly, nodding his approval. "Looks good."  
  
"I'm glad I was able to help, Detective." McClain cleared his throat, definitely more uncomfortable, like he suddenly had something stuck in his craw. 

Ben picked up on it and commented before Ray could. "Is something wrong, Alan?"  
  
"Im not sure."  
  
"What's happened?"  
  
"Well, I've been keeping a close watch for anyone who might seem suspicious as you requested. Nobody fitting that description has been asking for you or for Detective Vecchio."  
  
Ray didn't get the problem. "So, that's a good thing, right?"  
  
"Well, yes, but there has been a call from the FBI with an official request asking about your whereabouts. I'm sorry, but I had to admit that you were here."  
  
Ben stepped closer and asked, "To whom did you speak?" 

"Special Agent Crenshaw. He said he needed to contact you, that it was of the utmost importance that he speak with you or Detective Vecchio. Apparently, your cell phone was out of range or was turned off. He just called a few minutes ago or I would've come out to the cabin to tell you myself."

Ray stole a glace at Ben and their eyes met, both seeing the other's concern. While Ray took off his top shirt to put on his holster, he spoke their worry out loud. "Probably wants us back. Not going to happen, not yet."

Ben agreed. "True, however, we should call." He turned his attention to McClain. "Did he leave a number?"  
  
McClain reached into his pocket and handed Ben a piece of paper. "He said to call as soon as possible. You may use the house phone. It is, after all, official business."

Ray adjusted his holster and slipped his gun in, testing it a couple of times for the quick draw. Then he pulled his shirt back on. As he fastened the bottom two buttons, he asked Ben, "You want me to call or do you want to do the honors?"  
  
"I'll do it." 

McClain interrupted. "I'll leave you two alone. I'll be outside if you need anything."

"Thank you, Alan." As soon as the Mountie left, Ben picked up the receiver of the phone on the table, dialed for an outside line, and got a connection almost immediately. "Special Agent Crenshaw, this is Constable Fraser. I got your message to call."  
  
Ben remained quiet, listening carefully to the guy at the other end of the line while Ray watched. Ben suddenly paled, glanced over at Ray, his eyes deadly serious. It took all Ray's willpower not to grab the receiver and give that asshole Crenshaw an earful. Instead, Ray crossed his arms and waited for Ben to finish.

Ben kept his eyes on Ray as he spoke quietly, "I understand. When did it happen?" After another pause, he asked, "How was that possible? I see No, I understand I'll tell him. I'll call you tomorrow with our decision."  
  
As he hung up the phone, Ray hardly gave him time to breathe. "Spill. What happened?"

"This is really amazing, Ray."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sean O'Malley's dead."  
  
Ray couldn't believe his ears, couldnt take it in. "Dead? What do you mean he's dead? Like **dead** dead, no longer breathing dead?"

"I mean, Martin Jones's brother killed him in his cell. He apparently stabbed him to death for murdering his brother."  
  
Opening his mouth, Ray shut it again, not sure what to say. The whole world kind of tilted and blurred, the light narrowing into a little bitty black spot. Ray suddenly found himself in a chair, Ben pushing his head down between his legs. When his vision cleared, he complained, "Hey, stop it. That hurts. Cut it out already."  
  
"Stay put, Ray. You took a bit of a spin."  
  
"I just got light-headed is all. Im fine, okay? Let go."  
  
Reluctantly, Ben released him and Ray sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is crazy."  
  
"Indeed. There's going to be an investigation as to how Mr. Jones was able to access O'Malley's cell."  
  
"I don't give a shit how he did it. He did it. O'Malley's dead, bit the dust, bought the farm, met his maker, though I'll bet his maker ain't too happy about that. Son of a bitch deserved whatever happened to him."  
  
Ben remained quiet, but Ray knew those beautiful gray cells were turning like crazy. "So, what's this mean, Ben? This mean there's no hit out on me? That it's finally over, that I'm safe?"

"It would appear that my father was right."  
  
"Your father?"  
  
"He dropped by this morning. He told me to expect a surprise. I certainly didn't think he meant this."  
  
Ray frowned at the news. "Your old man told you about this and you didn't think to mention it 'til now?"  
  
"Well, you know my father, Ray. He wasn't specific. He just said that change was on the way."  
  
"Well, this is one hell of a change all right."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
They stared at one another a long moment before Ray finally smiled. He stood up and moved in for a hug. He sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around Ben's waist. "It's fucking over, Ben. With O'Malley out of the picture, there's no reason for anybody to come after me anymore. We forget about all this shit and just get on with our lives." Ray's eyes stung as he rested his head on Ben's shoulder. "God, it's finally fucking over."  
  
Ben hugged him back, but didn't say anything. When Ray lifted his head, he saw the doubt in his partner's eyes. "What?"  
  
"Crenshaw wants us back in the States."  
  
"So what? We're not going."  
  
Ben studied him long and hard before he asked, "Are you sure, Ray? Once you do this, there's no turning back."

Ray captured the back of Ben's neck and took a very deep breath. "I'm sure, more sure than ever. I'll call Welsh and Turner, tell them I'm quitting. Crenshaw can make sure the Vecchio thing is covered. They can say he's on sick leave or something. I don't really care. I'm done, finished, no more Ray getting his ass kicked by the feds or the Chicago PD."

Finally relaxing, Ben kissed him gently on the lips and drew back. "If you're sure, then, yes, we'll tell Lt. Welsh and Captain Turner your decision to resign. Then we'll contact Crenshaw. He won't be happy, but I don't think he'll be entirely surprised."  
  
Ray closed his eyes and dropped his head to Ben's shoulder again. "Let's do this, make it official. The sooner I'm out, the sooner I can forget about it and get my life back."  
  
"You'll never forget about it, Ray. Being a police officer is part of you. It always will be whether you wear the badge or not."  
  
"Maybe, but I'm going to give forgetting a hell of a shot."

* * *

Ray sat at the table, dialing the number for the head of his undercover assignments, Captain Turner. After three rings, he heard the familiar voice. _"Turner."_  
  
"Hey, Captain, it's me, Ray."  
  
 _"Ray? You make it to Canada in one piece?"_  
  
"Yeah, more or less."

__

__

"More or less? What's that mean?"  
  
"It means I'm doing okay. Don't worry about it." Ray cleared his throat and asked, "So, I guess you heard about O'Malley, right?"  
  
 _"Son of a bitch is dead, yeah, I heard. Good riddance, but don't quote me on that. Wouldn't be PC. Bastard deserved a fair trial, blah, blah, blah."  
_  
Ray grinned at his old boss's comment, feeling pretty much the same way. "Look, I'm calling because, well, the reason is, that I, uh"

__

__

"Come on, Ray, spit it out. You're staying up north, right?"  
  
Pulling the phone back away from his head, Ray looked at the receiver a second, and then put it back to his ear. "How'd you know that?"

__

__

"I used to be a pretty good detective before they chained me to a desk. I saw the signs."  
  
"Signs? What signs?"  
  
 _"Doesn't matter. The feds are going to shit a shitload of bricks, you know that, right?"  
_  
"Yeah, I know. Can't be helped."  
  
 _"I get that, too. We'll work something out. Don't worry about it. I figure Vecchio can take an extended leave of absence or something, go to Italy to find his roots or some such shit."_

"Thanks, Captain. I appreciate it."

__

__

"Not a problem. So, are you going to take disability or what?"

"Disability?" Frowning, Ray scratched his head and then rubbed his leg, not exactly sure what Turner meant. "I don't think I'd qualify for disability on the leg. It's getting better."  
  
Turner hesitated before his voice filled the line. _"Ray, I'm not talking about your leg. I'm talking about the Post Traumatic Stress deal. Reese and Collier would both sign off on it. I mean, it's in your file in black and white. You qualify, no problem."  
_  
Stunned, Ray shook his head, hoping like hell that his ears were on the blink. "You want me to get paid for being nuts?"  
  
 _"Not nuts, Ray. I'm not saying that."_

"Sounds like it."

__

__

"Look, you're not nuts, well, not much more than you were when I hired you. I'm just saying you were hurt on the job, same as taking a bullet, worse if you ask me. You're fed up, burned out, you can't work the job anymore, that's all. You take disability, it'll help pay for insurance. You're going to need that even up in Canada, especially if you're not a cop anymore."  
  
Ray closed his eyes, not able to take it all in. His boss thought he'd lost it, thought he was loony tunes. Maybe he was, but he sure as hell didn't want to make it fucking official. Throat tight, he forced himself to talk. "I'm not taking disability. I just wanted to tell you what's what. I'm staying up here with Fraser. I'll file the final papers through Welsh."  
  
 _"Ray "  
_  
"I know you mean well, Captain, but I'm not crazy enough to let the Chicago PD pay me for being fucked up."  
  
 _"Don't let pride get in the way of doing what's right, Ray. You deserve the money. Just think about it."  
_  
Ray wanted to hang up, slam the phone down, but he didn't. He respected Turner that much at least. Instead, he ended the call as fast as he could without insulting his boss. "I've got to go. Nice working with you, Captain."  
  
 _"Same here, Ray. You were a good cop, one of the best."  
_  
Ray didn't answer, couldn't, not with the lump the size of a Mac truck in his throat. He hung up and put his head down on the table, his mind spinning. He'd been a cop pretty much his whole life, lost his dad for years over it, lost Stella, too. Despite that, being on the job was one of the few things he was really good at. Now it was over, a whole new ballgame. Ray wasn't sure if he could hack it, make the grade, do what he needed to make a new life with Ben. What if he fucked it up, too? What if Turner was right? Maybe he was disabled, crippled from the neck up. Shit. Ray kept his head down when Ben entered the room.  
  
A hand settled on his shoulder. "Ray, are you all right?"  
  
He didn't move, his words muffled by the inside of his arm. "Sure. I'm fine."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"I said I'm fine, so shut up."  
  
Ben didn't listen, just kept talking like always. "What did Turner say?" When Ray didn't answer, Ben sat in the chair next to his, his hand still on Ray's shoulder. "Tell me what happened, Ray."  
  
Finally, Ray lifted his head, his face flushed. "You think I'm crazy?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"But I've got that PSTD thing, right?"  
  
"Well, yes, Ray, but that doesn't make you crazy."  
  
"Sure feels like it sometimes."

Eyes narrowed, Ben squeezed his shoulder gently. "Tell me what Captain Turner said to upset you."

"He thinks I should file disability instead of just quitting."  
  
Ben didn't react like Ray expected, not even close. Hell, he didn't even blink. He simply tilted his head a little to the right and wet his lower lip. Fuck. "That's not entirely unexpected, Ray."  
  
"It was to me."  
  
"Perhaps, but if you think about it, it might be the best way to approach the problem."  
  
"What problem?"  
  
"You have your retirement and savings, but if you resign, you'll lose your health insurance. You're not a Canadian citizen, so you won't be covered here, either. I do plan to carry you as my domestic partner, but that takes time to process, and you have pre-existing conditions. While healthcare in Canada is a great deal cheaper than in the United States, having the disability officially declared and the opportunity for continued coverage would help offset any financial burden that you might incur because of treatment. You were, after all, injured while working undercover for the department and I don't see any reason why you wouldn't qualify for coverage based on the stipulations drawn up in your union contract."

Ray only took in about half of the babble, too shocked to take in more. "Jesus, you've actually thought about it."  
  
"Well, yes, Ray, I've thought about it."  
  
"But you didn't say anything. You didn't say a word about thinking I was disabled."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"No, I mean it. Why didn't you say something?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I suppose I thought you might have thought about it on your own."  
  
"Or you thought I'd get pissed off." Ray crossed his arms, fuming. "You don't have to coddle me. I can handle shit."  
  
"I know that. I wasn't coddling. Events have happened so quickly, we just never really got a chance to discuss the entire spectrum of possibilities yet."  
  
Ray relaxed slightly, but still didn't let Ben off the hook completely. "You knew I was thinking about quitting before O'Malley ended up croaking. You could've mentioned it."  
  
"Water under the bridge, Ray. The question is, what do you propose to do?"  
  
"I'm **not** disabled."

Ben hesitated only a second, but then patted his shoulder with a small smile, all supportive and Ben-like. "Then that's settled. You'll resign, pure and simple."  
  
Shaking his head, Ray wasn't finished, couldn't let it go. "You think I should go for the disability."  
  
"I didn't say that. It's your decision."  
  
"But you do, you think if I were practical like you, I'd do it."  
  
"If you're asking me the most practical approach, then, yes, you should. If you're asking what I think you'd be more comfortable doing, then, no, you shouldn't."  
  
"You can't have it both ways. Either I go for it or I don't."  
  
"Like I said before, Ray, it's up to you."  
  
Ray closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, the persistent headache spreading down the back of his neck. "I'll have to think about it."  
  
"Perhaps you should discuss it with Lt. Welsh. He'd have the actual figures involved so that you could make an informed decision."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, okay." Ray pushed away the thoughts of being permanently labeled a head case and turned his attention back to Ben. "So, did you talk to Thatcher?"  
  
Ben's expression brightened. "I did. She's very supportive of our move together and has offered to call both Ottawa and the commanding officer here at Yellowknife about the transfer."  
  
"That's good then. Think she'll have enough gas to pull it off?"  
  
"Enough gas, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, gas, pull, connections. Do you think her word will get the job done?"  
  
"One can only hope, but she seemed very optimistic. She also said that Turnbull has shown a remarkable improvement in job performance of late. She wants to promote him to my position and have the replacement take Turnbull's job at the front desk."  
  
"Cool. Way to go, Renny."  
  
"Indeed. I was pleased at her comments." Ben paused and then added, "She also sent her well wishes to you, Ray. She hopes we'll be happy together."  
  
"She said that?"  
  
"Yes, she did."  
  
"Flat out, no pretty words and dancing around, just she hopes we'll be happy together?"

"Ray, why is it so hard to believe that she wishes us well?"  
  
"Because she was hot for your body, that's why." Ray held up his hand to stop any argument. "Even so, it's high class of her to be grateful in defeat."  
  
"Grateful? Do you mean gracious in defeat, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, that, too. Anyway, when will you know?"  
  
"I've filled out and turned in the forms for the transfer, but I should know for sure by tomorrow."  
  
Ray rubbed the back of his head. "Tomorrow, huh? Wow, that's fast."  
  
"Well, normally it would take much longer, but Alan's leaving and the post is still open. They need someone to report in the next few weeks or be short-handed during the height of the tourist season. That should make the transfer, should it be granted, more expeditious." 

"Expeditious?"  
  
"Speedy, quick, swift."  
  
"Expeditious it is then."  
  
"You approve?"  
  
"Yeah, the faster, the better. Let's just hope those guys with the big hats and pumpkin pants at the Mother Ship in Ottawa don't do something shitty and foul it all up."

"Well, we'll know soon enough. For now, I think we should go to your physical therapy session. You can call Lt. Welsh about your plans afterwards."  
  
Ray shook his head. "No, I want to do it now. Get the ball rolling and see what he has to say. I owe him that much. He's been a stand up guy through this whole deal. Plus, he needs to fax me the papers. If I know anything about quitting, it's that you've got about as many papers to fill out as you did when you joined up."  
  
"That's certainly true. I'll wait outside then. We still have some time before the session."

"Thanks." As Ben touched the doorknob, Ray added, "You can wait in the Jeep if you want. This won't take long."  
  
"Right you are, Ray. I'll wait outside."  
  
As Ben left, Ray thought to himself that after all his years on the force, it only took a few minutes to really end it. It reminded him of his marriage to Stella. He saw the end coming, but didn't want to give in, give up. He kept hanging in there long after he should've called it quits. Same thing with being a flatfoot. It was time to throw in the towel before he got his head bashed in and screwed up any more than it already was. He had to do it and get it over with, get it done before he lost his nerve.

His hand shook as he punched in the number to call his boss in Chicago. After only one ring, he heard the short bark. _"Welsh."_  
  
"Hey, Lieu, it's Ray."  
  
 _"I figured I'd hear from you today. How you holding up?"_  
  
"Okay, I guess."  
  
 _"The Constable treating you right?"  
_  
"You know it."  
  
 _"Yeah, I do."_ Jumping right to business, Welsh's voice got even more serious. _"Look, O'Malley's dead. I put some feelers out, talked to just about anybody and everybody and any hit he commissioned doesn't seem to be active."_

"You're sure?"  
  
 _"Huey, Dewey, and just about every person in the squad has been pounding the pavement to check it out. We're all pretty sure, yeah. Our sources say O'Malley called off the hit the day after the last attempt."  
  
_ "How reliable are the sources?"

__

__

"The information's good, Ray, solid. I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't pretty damn sure."

"And you didn't think to tell me 'til now?"

__

__

"We didn't really know for sure until now. O'Malley's history, so even if there were a hit still in place, a guy would be stupid to go over the border to take out a cop anyway. I mean, the guy's dead. What would be the point?"

"What if I'm not a cop anymore? What then?"  
  
 _"He'd still be stupid."_ Welsh paused before he asked, _"What are you saying, Ray? You quitting on me?"_  
  
Still a little numb from all the breaking news, all the changes in his life, Ray closed his eyes as he spoke. "I'm done, sir. I can't do this shit anymore. I should've been done before the Jones boy was killed. All that shit happened because I couldn't leave things alone. The kid should still be walking around, playing hoops, going out with his friends. Instead, he's dead because of me."  
  
The heavy sigh came across the miles loud and clear. _"Look, I'm as much to blame for that as you, more even. I should've tried harder with the brass. You warned us all about what might happen. We should've listened."_  
  
"I have to quit, Lieu. You know that, right?"  
  
 _"Yeah, I figured."  
_  
"I'm sorry."  
  
 _"About what? Doing a good job? You worked your ass off. Sure, you mouthed off sometimes, gave me heartburn and piles, but you have heart_ _and that's what counts. Heart means everything in a job like this."  
_  
Eyes burning, fighting back tears, Ray cleared his throat. "Thanks, Lieu."  
  
 _"So, I guess you need some papers. You got a fax number?"_  
  
"Sure." Ray gave him the number Alan had given him for the RMCP headquarters. Then he built up enough courage to go for the hard stuff. "Look, sir, I have to ask your opinion about something."

__

__

"Shoot."  
  
"Turner said something about disability, you know, because of my head being so messed up and all. I don't want to do that, but Fraser said that he might have a point. What do you think? You think I should go for it?"  
  
 _"I think you earned a right to the money and there'd be no problem getting Reese and Collier to back that up. It'd be the smart thing to do financially, but it'd also mean that it might make it harder to get another job later. I mean, who knows? You might get tired of hanging around the cabin all day while the Mountie's still working. At any rate, you want the facts, I'll send you two packages, one for a straight resignation, the effective date being after you've used all the sick, vacation, and comp time you've accumulated, and the second for if you go the disability route. You make the decision and get back with me. You've still got a lot of days left, so there's no real hurry. I'll be sorry to see you go, but I understand."  
_  
"You mean I can get my life back, my name?"  
  
 _"Hey, I'd go with something more exciting than Stanley Kowalski, but that's up to you."_

"Thanks, Lieu. You're a good guy."  
  
 _"You, too."_ After a few seconds of silence, Welsh asked, _"You really going to be okay up there, Kowalski?"  
_  
"Yeah, sir, I think so."

__

__

"Good luck then. Watch your back and tell Constable Fraser I'll personally come up there and kick his ass if he lets anything happen to you."  
  
Ray grinned weakly and nodded even though he knew Welsh couldn't see him. "Sure thing, sir. I'll put him on notice."  
  
 _"Well, so long. Don't take any wood nickels or whatever passes for money up that way. And lay off the moose burgers."  
_  
"Moose burgers, sir?"  
  
 _"Yeah, apparently they do a number on the digestion, but if you hang around the constable long enough, I'm sure you'll find that out for yourself."_ His gruff voice softened. _"In all seriousness, Ray, good luck. It's been interesting."  
_  
"Yeah, interesting. Same here."  
  
The click ended the conversation and Ray hung up the phone. It was official, he was going to be a civilian living with a Mountie in the middle of Nowhere, Freezerland. 

Ray got up from the table and headed out to join Ben, realizing being sane wasn't all it was cracked up to be anyway. Hell, if he were sane, he'd never have hooked up with Ben in the first place and then what? He'd be alone and miserable, locked up in a booby hatch or dead. He could brood and pitch a fit all he wanted, but he knew deep down how fucking lucky he really was. He was alive and had Ben in his life. So what if he had no idea what the fuck he was going to do with the rest of it?

* * *

"You've been terribly quiet since we left headquarters, Ray. Are you all right?"  
  
Ray stared out the window, his thoughts muddled, all kind of messed up inside his head. "Yeah, maybe, I don't know. It's hard to put into words. It just feels weird."  
  
"What does?"  
  
Shifting in his seat, Ray crossed his arms tightly around his chest and stole a glance at Ben. He took a couple of deep breaths before diving into an explanation. "It just doesn't feel real."  
  
"What doesn't feel real?"  
  
"This."  
  
"This?"  
  
Ray turned his face back towards the window. " **This** , Ben. This whole business of O'Malley being dead. I mean, I've been walking around with a target on my back for so long, I just can't quite take it in, that's all. It's like my head knows it's over, but my gut's still on overdrive. I keep hearing this little voice saying, 'What if he's still out there? What if the next guy who takes over comes after me, too, then what?' I mean, Welsh said I was safe, but I don't feel safe, not even close."

"It'll take time to depressurize, Ray.  
  
"Depressurize, huh?"  
  
"We can't expect to change our thinking and vigilance so drastically in a matter of hours."

"I guess that makes sense."  
  
"You and I have both been under tremendous strain for the last few months. O'Malley's reappearance in your life simply intensified that stress. Now that he's gone, it'll take a bit of time to normalize again."  
  
Ray snorted at that. "Normalize? Us? Forget about it. Not going to happen."  
  
Flushing slightly, Ben grinned. "Well, what passes for normal for us then. My point is "  
  
"I get your point. We just need time to adjust."  
  
"Precisely." Ben pulled into a parking spot in front of the rehab center. "Would you like me to come up or wait in the Jeep?"  
  
"You don't need to do guard duty anymore and it's going to be at least an hour. You could go back into town or something."  
  
"And do what, Ray? I want to be here with you." Ben reached over and rubbed the back of Ray's neck, his fingers teasing his hair. "Is that so hard to understand?"

Ray relaxed slightly with the touch, letting himself enjoy the contact. "I just don't want you to be bored stiff, that's all."  
  
"I won't be."  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"They've got some rather interesting magazines in the waiting room here. Did you know that CULINARY MAGAZINE is giving an award to the best recipe using fresh gooseberries? Of course, the magazine is a bit outdated by several years, so I suppose a winner's already been named. Still, it's certainly something to ponder."  
  
Ray relaxed and cracked a grin. "Gooseberries, huh? What the hell's a gooseberry anyway?"  
  
"Well, Ray "  
  
"Never mind. I dont care about gooseberries." He captured Ben's hand at the back of his neck, drawing it to his mouth for a quick kiss. "Listen, you want to stay with me, fine. If you want to go, that's cool, too. I just don't want you to think you have to baby sit me all the time."

"I don't think that."  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"Perfectly sure. By the same token, I don't want you to think that my waiting during your sessions in any way negates my appreciation of how difficult this time is for you."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I know it's not easy doing physical therapy. If you're uncomfortable with my presence or if you want me to leave and come back, I will."

Ray squeezed his hand and shook his head. "No, I want you here. I just, I don't know, feel dumb."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About wanting you to stay when I know you don't have to anymore."  
  
Ben leaned in and gently brushed his lips against Ray's before kissing him. Then he whispered, "I love that you want me to stay, Ray. Don't ever feel **dumb** about that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Now, if we don't get out of the truck, I fear we're going to be late to your session."  
  
"What are they going to do, put me in detention?"  
  
"They might." Ben lowered his voice even further. "And I wouldn't want that, Ray. I want to go home after this and celebrate the change in our lives."  
  
Ray's eyes narrowed as he thought about what that really meant. "You want to celebrate O'Malley being knifed to death?"  
  
"No, Ray, I want to celebrate your safety, our new home together, the chance we've been given to start over."  
  
Smiling at that, Ray nodded. "I like the way you see things."  
  
Ben kissed him again very quickly and then opened the driver's door. As he got out, he suddenly got all Mountie-like and cheerful again. "Time to get to work, Ray. No more lollygagging."

Joining him outside the Jeep, Ray complained, "Lollygagging? Who the fuck's lollygagging? I'm just not in a hurry to have my leg ripped off."  
  
"Now, Ray "  
  
"Don't start with me, Ben."  
  
"I wasn't starting anything, Ray. I was merely pointing out that the appearance of lollygagging is, in fact, much the same thing as lollygagging itself."  
  
Ray couldn't keep up with the twists and turns of what Ben was saying, so he just laughed. "You're nuts, you know that?"  
  
Ben got to the door to the building and held it open, motioning for Ray to go inside first. "So I've been told on a number of occasions." 

"That don't bother you, being called nuts?"  
  
Ben smiled sweetly as he pushed the elevator button. "Not in the slightest."

* * *

"You're not concentrating, Ray. What's the problem?"  
  
Sitting on the exercise table, Ray looked up at Kate as she stopped bending and pushing his leg and shrugged. "Sorry."  
  
"Sorry won't cut it. Just tell me what's wrong." When he didn't answer, she straightened and released his leg before wiping her hands on a nearby towel. She sat down on the rolling stool before moving in a bit closer. "This won't work if you're not with me."  
  
"I'm with you. I just got distracted, that's all. I've got a lot of stuff coming at me all at once."  
  
"Yeah, like what?"  
  
Ray eyed her and then shook his head. No way did he want some stranger knowing all his business. It was bad enough she saw him with a gimpy leg and all the scars everywhere. "Doesn't matter. Let's get back to work. I need to get the hang of this so I can do it on my own and with Ben."  
  
"Ray, listen, half the work of physical therapy is all about attitude. Your body's here, but your head's just not with it today. Maybe we should just postpone and you can come back tomorrow after you see Dr. Egan."  
  
The only thing that kept Ray from taking her up on her offer was knowing he'd have to explain to Ben that he was a big, fat quitter and he wasn't going to do that, not yet anyway. "No, let's do this."  
  
"You're sure?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. The leg hurts, but it's not the same kind of hurt. It's like I can already tell a difference."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. So, give me another shot, okay? I'll try not to spaz out again."  
  
"Spaz out?"  
  
"Yeah, you know, space out, lose focus, go to LaLa Land. I do that sometimes, just drift off. Don't take it personal."  
  
Kate studied him for a minute before she asked, "Have you ever been tested for ADD?"  
  
"You mean Addled, Dumb, and Dumber? Sure, why?"  
  
She cracked a smile in spite of herself. "I've never heard it called that before."  
  
"Counselor back in high school said I had it, but it didn't make much difference. Just meant I had to try a lot harder to pay attention and not goof off. Trouble was, almost everything in high school's a snoozefest waiting to happen. Most teachers thought I was just dumb, not bored out of my skull. Anyway, what's that got to do with anything?"

"You're not dumb or you wouldn't be a police detective."  
  
"Look, I know I'm not dumb. You dont have to pump me up, okay? Let's just stick to the leg thing, not shrinking Ray's head."

Instead of getting hurt or offended, she calmly asked, "Why are you so defensive?"  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Look, I know you don't know me very well, but I'm a good listener. Maybe if you talk about what's bothering you while we work on your leg, you won't be so tied up in knots everywhere."  
  
"I'm not tied up in knots."  
  
"Ray, I'm a physical therapist. I know knots when I see knots. How we feel inside is reflected on the outside. Right now, your leg seems to be the least of your problems."  
  
Ray sat for a long moment as he tried to figure out the woman's angle, why she kept trying to pry into his business. It wasn't like she got paid extra if she cracked him open and figured out what was going on. Hell, he didn't even know what made him tick half the time and especially not now. He should be happy as hell that O'Malley was dead, but instead, it was like all his fears had gone on overdrive, his insides all twisted up. Sitting on the edge of panic, he rubbed his face with both hands trying to control the urge to jump off the table and run away. He shook his head, his voice hard. "Work with the leg, don't work with the leg, makes no difference to me. You want to bust my balls, take a number. I didn't come here for counseling. I dont need somebody poking around in my life."  
  
Smile gone, she stood up completely straight, but her voice still even. Kate took his leg again and began the exercise. "All right then. Let's get back to work."

After a few stretches and pushes, Ray apologized. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped."  
  
"It's okay. Now, I want you to stand up and lean back on the table. Then lift your leg straight out slowly as high as you can and hold it there."  
  
Ray did as she instructed, but still couldn't get rid of the guilt for being a first class jerk. "It's just I've had some bad experiences with that whole shrink business."  
  
"I understand." Avoiding his gaze, she pressed down on his leg. "Try to keep the leg up despite my pushing down."  
  
"I'm trying."  
  
"Try harder." Sweat dotted his forehead as Ray managed to keep his leg up, but only for a few seconds. The pain radiated up into his groin and he groaned as she asked, "Did that hurt?" 

"Yeah."  
  
"Did it hurt as much as yesterday?"  
  
Ray thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. "No."  
  
"Good. Now, I want you to lie down on the mat on your left side. I want you to try lifting your leg."  
  
Once again, Ray did as he was told. As he followed her instructions, he went through pretty much the same routine as the day before, but without nearly the same pain. When he thought he'd done enough leg lifts, he stopped. 

"You're not done yet."  
  
"Yesterday we did ten."  
  
"Today we do fifteen."  
  
"Slave driver."  
  
"Ray "  
  
"Okay, okay, I'm lifting." When he finished the exercise, he rolled on his back, a dull ache all down his leg and across the small of his back. He watched as she jotted notations on the chart and once again wanted to make up. "You're good at this."  
  
"Thanks. Now, we're going to the pool for a little while. Can you get up on your own?"

Ray managed to sit up, too proud to take her hand. "I can manage."  
  
As she turned, he spoke quietly to her back. "It's complicated."  
  
Kate came and sat down on the floor mat beside him. "It usually is."  
  
"Some things have changed."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"A lot of things, big things, things I can't really talk about. It's just I don't know you."  
  
"Sometimes it's easier to talk to people you don't know."  
  
"Doesn't work like that for me. I just don't want you to think I'm always such an asshole."  
  
"What? You're just an asshole sometimes?"  
  
Ray smiled at that and cocked his head, staring at the woman sitting on the floor beside him. She had pretty green eyes, eyes that seem to see a lot more than just the surface. "I can't talk about stuff. Help me with the leg, but don't try to do all that psychomumbojumbo stuff, okay?"  
  
Reluctantly, she nodded and then held out her hand. "It's a deal. I'm sorry if you think I overstepped. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I won't do the Freud number if you pay attention and don't snap my head off for being concerned."  
  
He shook hands. "Deal."  
  
Kate stood up. "Now, put your trunks on. First the pool, then the whirlpool."  
  
"Whirlpool?"  
  
"Yeah. You'll like it. It relaxes the muscles."  
  
"And then what?"  
  
"Then I'll massage the leg."  
  
"You didn't do that yesterday."  
  
She shook her head as she walked away. "Every day's a brand new day, Ray."  
  
Ray slowly got up, thinking about all the brand new days he had ahead of him with Ben. He walked a little faster, hoping he could get a handle on all the shit stomping around wild and free inside his head. He didn't need to lose it when things were finally turning around and going good. Leave it to him to be as backward about shit as always.

* * *

When Ray walked out of therapy, his muscles ached liked crazy and all he wanted to do was go sit down somewhere and have an ice cold beer or two. Of course, he knew there'd be no beer in the immediate future if he didn't want some big lecture and drama from Ben. So, he'd settle for some strong coffee over at Mimi's. He ran a nervous hand through his damp hair and wondered when that happened, when keeping Ben happy suddenly meant more than taking a drink? Actually, he kind of liked the change, knew that deep down Ben was more important than all the booze in China. He just had to keep reminding himself so he didn't fuck up a good thing.

Funny, but all that working out made him less edgy, put a damper on the rising panic about living without the badge. All that anxiety got pushed to the back burner as he focused on getting fit again, something he'd put off way too long. He didn't want Ben to have to carry him, be hooked up with some lame civilian loser. Just wrapping his head around not being a cop wouldn't be easy, but he'd just add it to the long list of new shit to deal with rolling around in his head.

As soon as he stepped into the waiting room, Ray knew something wasn't right. Ben stood by the window, staring out across the parking lot, his brow wrinkled in hard concentration, his arms crossed. Ray stepped closer. "What's up?"  
  
Ben took a deep breath before he met his questioning gaze. "Your ex-wife called."  
  
Ray noted the annoyed tone and how Ben avoided using Stella's name. She must have said something that really pissed him off. "What did she want?"  
  
Rubbing his right eyebrow, Ben shook his head. "Don't take this the wrong way, Ray, but that woman that woman "  
  
"Really bugs the snot out of you, right?"  
  
Jarred, Ben's head snapped up, but his lips thinned into a grin. "Bugs the snot out of me, Ray? What on earth does that mean?"  
  
"You know what it means. She pushes your buttons, sends you around the bend, makes you want to be very un-Mountie-like, given half a chance."  
  
"Ah, well, yes, that does sum it up rather nicely."  
  
"Seriously, what'd she say exactly?"  
  
"It wasn't so much what she said, but how she said it."  
  
Ray couldn't hold back his own grin. "Yeah, I know about that. Stella does tone better than just about anybody I know, except you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah, you, buddy, and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Say **ah** for me and see how far you get."  
  
Ben chuckled, more relaxed and less snippy. "I take your point. As to why Stella called, I would assume she wants to talk to you about returning to Chicago."  
  
"But that's not what ticked you off. What'd she say?"  
  
Reluctantly, Ben finally coughed it up. "She seems under the impression that I'm a bad influence on you."  
  
Snorting, Ray shook his head. "Don't believe that's possible. If anything, it's the other way around."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"You dont think I'm a bad influence?"  
  
"Not in the slightest."  
  
"Guess I'll have to work a little harder then, huh?"  
  
"I'll certainly enjoy the attempt."

"You better believe it."

Ben smiled at the teasing, but he reached in his pocket and handed Ray the cell phone. "You should call her, Ray. She said she'd be waiting at her office."  
  
There were several other people in the room, so Ray took the phone and motioned with his head to leave. "I'll do it outside, not here."  
  
As they walked out to the car, Ben asked, "How did the session go?"  
  
"Okay, I guess. I'm tired and the leg still hurts, but it's not as bad. Guess every day it'll get a little better."  
  
Ben sniffed a few times as they walked. "You smell like chlorine."  
  
"Yeah, I know. It's the pool."  
  
"I'll have to remember to bring some insect repellent with us tomorrow."  
  
Ray swatted at a black fly and agreed, "Should've thought about that before we left."  
  
"We will next time."  
  
Once they reached the car, Ray leaned back against hood, checking for a signal to place the call. Ben touched his elbow to get his attention. "I'll just take a short walk around the building to give you some privacy."  
  
"You dont have to do that. It's just Stella."  
  
"Still, you'll be more comfortable alone."  
  
"Seriously, Ben, you can stay. It's okay."  
  
"Let me rephrase that, Ray. I'd be more comfortable if you talked to her on your own. I really can't trust my own reactions to her comments."  
  
"Enough said." Waving a hand, Ray shooed him away. "Take a hike. This shouldn't take too long. Then we can hit Mimi's for lunch. I feel an appetite coming on."  
  
"That's great news. After that, I propose we pick up the information Lt. Welsh faxed to headquarters and go home."  
  
"I second that." As he watched Ben walk away, Ray punched in Stella's office and extension number. After a couple of rings, he heard Stella's voice. He knew right off she'd been crying. "Stella? You okay?"  
  
 _"Im fine, Ray. It's so good to hear your voice. I've been so worried."  
_  
"What's going on? Why are you so upset?"  
  
 _"It's a madhouse around here because of the O'Malley murder and that asshole Crenshaw has been pestering me all morning to persuade you to come home as soon as possible."  
_  
"Fat chance."  
  
 _"Is it true?"  
_  
"Is what true?"  
  
 _"Lt. Welsh said you're staying up there with_ **him** _. Is it true?"_  
  
"He has a name, Stella. It's Ben."  
  
 _"Then it_ **is** _true. You're not coming back."_

Ray heard the choked strain of her voice. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. He never wanted to hurt her, but he guessed he was at it again. "I'm sorry, Stell. I love him and I had to get out."  
  
 _"But O'Malley's dead. The threat's over. You don't have to stay up there with Fraser. You can come home and be safe."_

"Threat or no threat, I'm done, history. I don't want to be a cop anymore. Fraser bought us a great place up here, so we're staying. I already talked to Welsh about it."  
  
Ray waited several long moments before Stella finally spoke. _"I wish you'd change your mind. Your life is here in Chicago, not in the middle of nowhere, up in Canada with a Mountie for Christ's sakes."  
_  
"I can't."  
  
 _"Can't or won't?"_  
  
"Both."  
  
 _"God, Ray, you're always doing shit like this."_  
  
"Like what?"  
  
 _"Going off half-cocked, not thinking through the consequences. What are you going to do for money?"  
_  
Ray had no intention of hashing out his financial situation with his ex-wife, so he kept it simple. "I'll be okay, Stella. Don't worry. I don't need much. Besides, Ben's still got a job, well, at least for now anyway."  
  
 _"What do you mean, at least for now?"  
_  
"Depends on whether he gets the transfer here."  
  
 _"Are you saying he's going to resign if he doesn't?"  
_  
"Yeah."  
  
 _"And do what?"_  
  
"Whatever it is, we'll manage." Before she argued some more, Ray added, "Look, Stella, I need a favor, okay?"  
  
 _"A favor? Damn it, Ray, you pick your moments."_  
  
"Yeah, I know, but you still love me, right?"  
  
In his head, Ray saw her hesitate and then smile that little sweet grin she had whenever he'd ask her that. _"Oh, Ray"_ She sighed heavily and then asked, _"What is it? What do you need?"_  
  
"Ben and I kind of left in a hurry, so we've still got a ton of stuff at my place. I can do all the banking from here, but is there any way you can ship some of my stuff up here? Plus, I need to give notice on the apartment. I'll pay you back, promise."  
  
 _"You don't have to pay me back, Ray. I've got money."  
_  
"Yeah, I know, but you shouldn't have to foot the bill, not when it's for my stuff."  
  
 _"Don't worry about it. Do you want everything shipped or just personal items?"_  
  
"Personal stuff like clothes and pictures, the cold weather gear, my CDs, I'd like those shipped. The furniture you can have or you can donate it to somebody."

__

__

"What about your car?"

"Not a problem. I'll take care of that myself."  
  
 _"Do you have an address?"  
_  
"Yeah, Ben Fraser, RMCP, care of the Yellowknife Post Office. I don't know the zip or anything like that. Hell, I dont even know if they use zips up here."  
  
 _"I can find out. Ray, what about Turtle?"_

"I haven't decided yet. It'd be a big deal to bring Turtle up here, but I hate just giving him away."  
 _  
"My sister Marie's boy likes reptiles. Would you mind if I gave him Turtle?"  
  
_ "You sure?"  
 _  
"David's a good kid, Ray. He'll take good care of Turtle and if he doesn't, I'll take him myself."_

Relieved and sorry at the same time, Ray reluctantly agreed. "Okay, okay, thanks. I'll tell Frannie's she's off the hook. You can get the key to the apartment from her at the station."

Stella paused and then spoke quietly. _"I'll take care of everything, Ray. Don't worry. Consider it a belated going away present."  
_  
Ray hugged himself and fought down the urge to cry. He knew she'd come through, knew in the end, she'd understand. "Thanks, Stella. You're a peach."  
  
 _"What about your mom and dad? You want me to tell Barbara where you are?"  
_  
Hesitating, Ray thought it over, figured he didn't have much to lose. "If they ask, yeah, tell 'em. Otherwise, don't go out of your way."  
  
 _"Ray, don't be like that. Your mom worries."  
_  
"I haven't heard from her since Christmas, Stell. She must not worry too much."

_"She asks about you, though."_  
  
"But she doesn't call. That says a lot." He stood up straighter as he saw Ben come back around the corner of the building and stop. Ray waved him to come back to the car. "Look, let me know when you ship the stuff and if there's any problem, okay?"  
  
 _"I will, and, Ray"  
_  
"Yeah?"  
  
 _"Tell, Fraser, I'm sorry about before."  
_  
Ray frowned, wondering what the hell it was she said to his partner. "What'd you do, Stella, read him the riot act or something?"  
  
 _"He'll know. Just tell him I was upset."  
_  
Even more determined to find out, Ray asked again, "Stella, what'd you say? I need to know."  
  
A second later, she confessed. _"I told him he'd ruined any chance you had for a normal life, that if it weren't for him, you'd probably be married with kids by now."  
_  
"Fuck, Stella, you know that's not true."  
  
 _"I'm sorry, Ray. I know I was out of line, but I just can't help but think "  
_  
"Stupid shit, that's what."  
  
 _"Just tell him, Ray. I'll take care of your apartment and shipping your things in the next week or two. Take care."_

The connection clicked off and Ray stared at the phone. Hell, no wonder Ben looked slaphappy earlier. She'd picked out one of his insecurities and hammered him with it. Might as well beat him with his own boot. Ray didn't know how she did it, but she always threw the low blow better than anybody. When Ben stood beside him, Ray put the phone down and wrapped Ben in a big hug.  
  
Ben returned the favor as he asked, "What is it, Ray?"  
  
"Stella's a bitch sometimes, that's all. What she said before, that was just her taking a cheap shot. It's not true. She was upset and said to say she was sorry."  
  
Ben took a long moment before he released Ray and nodded, "Thank you, Ray. I appreciate the apology. It did rather sting when she said those things."  
  
"So it wasn't all about tone?"  
  
"No, the content was rather daunting as well."  
  
"No kidding. Good thing she's in Chicago right now and we're here."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because we'd probably be in a screaming match and it wouldn't be pretty. Stella and I can go toe-to-toe pretty good sometimes when we let go."  
  
"There's no need to be upset on my account, Ray. As you said, she was distressed and said things she didn't mean."  
  
"Oh, she meant every word. Stella never says stuff she doesn't mean. She just usually has better control and doesn't say shit that she'll have to apologize for later."  
  
Ben frowned as he leaned back against the car, arms crossed. "So, you think she really believes that I've made it impossible for you to have a normal life and family?"  
  
"I don't care what she believes or what my family believes, Ben. You're my life and family. As for normal, I wasn't ever what passes for normal, whether I was with you or anyone else. I mean, what's the fucking big deal about being normal anyway?"  
  
Taking the words to heart, the frown disappeared, replaced by a warm smile. "I love you, Ray Kowalski. You are my life and family as well."  
  
"Then we're clear. No more worrying about what my ex-wife says."  
  
"We're clear, yes."  
  
"Good, because I'm tired and hungry and I think if I don't get something in my belly soon, I'm going to have to send Dief out to hunt for doughnuts or something."  
  
As they got in the car, Ben driving and Ray in the passenger side, Ben laughed. "I hardly think there are many doughnuts to be had in the woods around the cabin."  
  
"Maybe not, but you never know. I figure if there's a doughnut between our place and town, he'll find it."  
  
Ben started the Jeep and backed out of the parking space. His smile widened. "Our place, Ray?"  
  
"Yeah, Ben, our place. Why don't we pick up those faxes and head home, skip Mimi's, and you cook something instead?"  
  
"A wonderful suggestion, Ray."  
  
"Good, and on the way, maybe we should pick up at least one doughnut for Dief to celebrate."  
  
"You spoil him terribly."  
  
"Yeah, well, that's okay. He deserves it. He's been a great watch dog through this whole thing."

"Yes, he has."  
  
Ray leaned back, his head resting on the raised back of the seat. "God, it's really over, Ben."  
  
"So it would seem."  
  
Ray caught the tone, the tone that said Ben still had doubts. "You don't think so?"  
  
"No, I do. It's just "  
  
"Just what?"  
  
"Well, like you, I'm still a bit wary."  
  
"Then let's make it two doughnuts and let him stay on guard just a little bit longer, want to?"  
  
"I would feel better, yes."  
  
"Two doughnuts it is then."

"However, no chocolate."

"He gets the powdered. I get the chocolate."  
  
"And what do I get, Ray?"  
  
Ray reached over and rubbed Ben's thigh before he squeezed it. He didn't say a word, but Ben got the message. He picked up speed and actually broke a statute or two rushing through town. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Bygones 3  
Lifeline: Canada  
by Grey  
Grey853@aol.com

Part Two

Back at the cabin, Diefenbaker ate his doughnut on the front porch while Ben and Ray celebrated by going directly to bed. Ray quickly undressed as Ben did the same. Once under the mosquito netting, Ray pulled a naked Ben into his arms, hungrily kissing his mouth and his neck. Then Ray rolled Ben onto his back before straddling his crotch. Rubbing his hands over Ben's chest, Ray teased the nipples. Ben moaned softly, his eyes closed as his hips raised. "Like that?"

"You know I do, Ray."

Dipping his head down, Ray licked and then sucked on the right nipple. Ben bucked up, his head pushed back into the pillow, his hands gripping Ray's thighs even tighter. Ray loved watching Ben struggle with his own arousal, how he fought to keep himself under control. Didn't work though. He still lost it and got all hot and sweaty and that turned Ray on even more.

Ray felt Ben's dick grow hard against his backside, so he shifted forward. He wasn't quite ready to do that, to let Ben's dick get that close to serious business. Instead he climbed off and rolled Ben over on his belly and up on his knees. His own erection throbbed and Ray draped himself over Ben's back, kissing the nape of his neck. He whispered, "Love you."

"I love you, too, Ray."

"You want this?"

"Please."

"You sure?"

"Now you're just being mean, Ray. Don't tease."

Grinning to himself, Ray gave in and nipped Ben's shoulder. "I love you like this, all open and ready for anything, you know that?"

Breathing hard, Ben turned his head to see Ray and smiled. "Thank you kindly, Ray. Now, would you please get on with it?"

Ray laughed out loud at how impatient Ben got when he wanted it, wanted Ray to fuck him, the harder the better. Ray reached around and took Ben's cock in his hand, stroking it a few times. "When I'm good and ready."

Ben groaned in both frustration and pleasure as Ray worked his dick, still refusing to fuck him just yet. Ben didn't complain though, just shoved his ass back toward Ray a few times to show he was ready any time Ray was. After a few more minutes of working Ben into a frenzy, Ray eased up and grabbed the KY jelly and condoms by the table. He rolled a rubber on and then slicked Ben's hole a few times with his fingers. Ben pushed at his hand, growing more and more desperate.

Ray whispered, "Easy, Ben. Don't rush it."

Through clenched teeth, Ben hissed, "I'll… try." Taking pity, Ray eased his fingers out and then kissed Ben's ass. "God, Ray, I can't wait much longer."

"Don't have to." Ray shoved Ben's legs a little wider apart as he kneeled behind him. He held Ben's hip with one hand and used his other to guide his dick inside Ben. The tight hole opened slowly, letting Ray bury himself deep inside his partner. After a few seconds, Ben shoved back against him to signal he was ready. Ray did his bit, pushing and pulling, fucking Ben harder than ever, making sure his lover got what he wanted, what he needed to get off.

Sweat covered Ray's body and his gut wound tight with the growing pleasure burning through his groin up into his middle. His balls ached as they bounced against Ben's butt cheeks, the slapping sound mixed together with the sweet moans of pleasure that really turned Ray on. Ray closed his eyes, focusing just on the rising swell inside him, the tight coil that wrapped his belly. Every time he moved in, Ben shoved back, the rhythm going faster and faster. When he came, Ray rocked forward with a final surge, the blast behind his eyelids blinding, nothing but bright explosions. Ray fell forward across Ben's back as his dick died happy deep inside his partner.

Ben's ragged breathing got even louder and more uneven before he suddenly grunted loudly. His whole body shook under Ray as he came. Ray wrapped his arms around Ben and held on, knew that it took a little while to come down from the feel-good moment that he could never describe, but always wanted to do over.

Several minutes passed, Ray still inside Ben, still collapsed on top of him. He sighed happily and buried his nose in Ben's sweaty hair. "God, you make me happy."

Ben shifted under him and turned his head, his breath still short and his voice hoarse. "Happiness is too small a word for what you make me feel, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Bliss, heaven, paradise, pure ecstasy. You do all that for me."

"Same here, Ben, same here." Reluctantly, Ray withdrew from Ben and rolled over to the side. He took off the condom and threw it away. Then he pulled Ben into his arms. As they lay there quietly, Ray closed his eyes, his body begging for sleep. He fought it off long enough to whisper, "Words don't do it. They don't say what I feel when I'm with you."

"Actions speak louder than words, Ray." Ben kissed him slowly, his tongue thick and hard, his hand palmed over Ray's heart. When he lifted his face up, he fingered Ray's lower lip. "You make me complete, whole. I never thought I'd ever have this with another human being."

Ray swallowed hard, trying not to cry, to be a big sissy baby as he told Ben how much he loved him. "I feel the same way. I don’t always show it, but I do. You've got to know that no matter what I say or do, I love you like crazy, right?"

"I do know that, Ray."

"Good, because even if I'm an asshole sometimes, my loving you, that won't ever change. You've got to know that."

Ben smiled and then rested his head on Ray's chest again. He whispered, "It's going to be fine. We can be together here, start a new life. It'll be marvelous, more than we could ever imagine or hope for."

"I don't know. I can imagine quite a lot."

"Feel free. There are no limits to hope and desire."

Ray traced his fingers up and down Ben's naked arm. "There are no happily ever afters, Ben. We don't live in a fairy tale world. We're still going to have problems."

"That's a given, but there's no problem that's insurmountable as long as we communicate and stay together."

Ray didn't say anything, didn't voice the doubts still floating around at the back of his mind. He didn't want to spoil the moment. Instead, he kissed the top of Ben's head and closed his eyes. It'd been a roller coaster of a day and his body wanted to sleep, to cash it in and take a break. He didn't argue, just went with the moment and drifted to sleep.

Waking up slowly, Ray rolled onto his side to see Ben already dressed and sitting at the table. He took his time gawking and then cleared his throat. "What ya doing?"

Ben looked up from the paper and put down the pencil. "I'm drawing up some rough plans for the renovations. Did you sleep well?"

Ray rubbed his eyes as he stretched. His right leg didn't much care for the movement, but didn't cramp up like last time. He sat up and reached for his underwear. "Pretty good. What time is it?"

"A little after three-thirty. We need to decide if we want to call Chris and Eddie to accept their dinner invitation."

As Ray stood up and slipped on his jeans, he shrugged. "Sure, sounds good." Ben sat back, just watching Ray button his shirt, obviously admiring the view. Suddenly self-conscious, Ray asked, "What? I got something in my teeth or what?"

Smiling, Ben shook his head. "Nothing like that. I just like observing you dress."

"And undress?"

"That, too."

Ray snorted and walked to the stove, glad to see a fresh pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup, sniffed it with appreciation, and then sat down at the table. "So, Mr. Observer, let me see what you're working on."

Ben turned the paper so that Ray could see the sketch clearly. Ray whistled as he studied the plans, soaking up all the attention to detail. He could actually envision the new bathroom and bedroom with an extra closet. Ben had even labeled where they'd put the tub and shower, the toilet, and sink. The bedroom had a small wood-burning stove in the corner for added warmth. Come winter, Ray knew he'd more than appreciate all the heat he could get. "These are great."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. I wish I could just snap my fingers and have the whole thing done already. I'd kill for indoor plumbing, a can, a shower, it'd all be good."

"You don't think that it's a bit premature? It might be more prudent to make sure I have the transfer before we actually contract for the remodeling."

Ray put the paper down and sipped his coffee. He had to give it to Ben. For a guy who didn't drink the stuff, he could really brew a great cup of java. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and finally answered. "We should know about the job by tomorrow, right? Besides, the way I see it, if we're going to be here, we might as well go ahead and get it done, job or no job, and take advantage of the good weather. I've got the money and I know there's bound to be something you and I can do to make a living. Hell, if nothing else, you can work with Chris doing that guide and outfitters thing."

Ben nodded in agreement. "I've actually considered that. We haven't discussed it, but I do know the area."

"Like the back of your hand."

"Which would be a bonus for the company."

"And if not that, then there's something else out there that'll fit. You've got skills, Ben, talent that should get you a job in no time."

Ben cocked his head and asked, "And what about you, Ray?"

"What about me?"

"Do you plan to apply for a work visa?"

"I guess, I don't know. I figure I'd like to do some pictures for a while, maybe see if Cal needs a hand in the shop. I know motors, too, so there are garages I can check out. I'll find something. I'm not worried."

Ben's expression brightened. "That's a wonderful idea about the photography, Ray. I'm sure Cal would be more than happy to hire you."

"Well, he might have different plans since his kid's working there."

"Even so, he said his business was flourishing. I'm sure he could use extra help, if not now, then when his son goes back to school."

"You think a work visa would be hard to get?"

"Not at all. It's just a matter of a few forms and formalities."

"Right up your alley then, huh?"

"Exactly. It can be easily arranged, especially if Cal signs on as your employer."

"Great, but let's not get too carried away. Let's hold up for a little while until we get situated and know what's what about the transfer. Don't suppose Ice Queen called while I was snoozing, huh?"

Ben stood up and went to get himself some more tea. "No, not yet. I don't expect to hear until tomorrow at the earliest."

"I'd sleep easier knowing."

Sitting back down with a fresh cup, Ben didn't say anything right away. Then he said softly, "I can't imagine not being in the force, Ray."

Reaching over, Ray took Ben's hand and squeezed it gently. "It'll be okay. Thatcher will come through. I mean, let's face it, if anyone knows how to get things moving, it's her."

"Still, we have to prepare ourselves for the possibility that I might have to resign."

"Well, yeah, it'd put a wrench in the works, but we'll get by. We've got the land and each other. Plus, we don't have to worry about getting whacked by O'Malley. Hell, sounds like we've got a great start on a new life if you ask me. Don't go turning into a gloomypuss on me."

Ben squeezed Ray's hand in return and shook his head. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Great. Now, why don't you give Chris and Eddie a call and give them the good news?"

"Good news?"

"Yeah, no more guard duty. We can go to their place to celebrate."

"I like that idea, Ray."

"Why don't you make the call while I go check out the can?"

As Ray got up to go to the outhouse, Ben touched his arm. "Be careful."

"Ben, it's over, I'm safe."

"I know. It's just —"

"Hard to let go. I know, believe me. I keep expecting to get ambushed any minute, hear it was all a big mistake, some big joke. O'Malley's alive and kicking, ready to come after me again." Ray paused and wet his lower lip, more determined than ever to move on. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm not going to live like that, like I'm some target waiting for a bullet. We've got to let it go, forget about all that bullshit."

Ben straightened slightly, studying him a little closer. "That's very wise, Ray. I'm surprised."

"What? You're surprised that I can be smart sometimes?"

Ben shook his head as he tried to backpedal and explain himself. "No, not at all. I know you're very smart. That's not what I meant. I just meant, that usually you're the one who is, how should I put this, that is to say —"

"What, that I'm paranoid sometimes, kind of a pessimist?"

"Precisely. I don't mean it as a criticism, but you do tend to be rather cynical at times."

"With good reason, but I'm turning over a new leaf, starting fresh. No more worrying about shit I can't control, okay? I'm going to the can. Somebody wants to shoot my skinny ass, let 'em go for it. I've had enough."

"That's a very mature and progressive attitude, Ray."

"Yeah, well, it helps to know O'Malley's dead." His throat tightened as Ray added, "Son of a bitch is cold and in the grave, good riddance. Now, call Chris and invite us for dinner." He thumbed in the direction of the door. "I'm going to go take a leak."

As Ben picked up the cell phone to make the call, Ray headed outdoors. Dief woofed at his heels and followed him to the outhouse. With all his talk, all his posturing, Ray didn't shoo the wolf away. He figured he'd rather be safe than sorry, even if he didn't tell Ben about it.

Sitting at the table, Ray shook his head in wonder. "Fuck."

"What?"

"I can't believe how much they'll pay me every month for being a head case."

Ben wiped off his hands from washing the cups and sat down beside him. "I take it that it's a significant amount?"

"Hell, yeah. I mean, I thought I'd be doing good, living off my retirement and sick pay for a little while, but if I take disability, I can get a couple of thousand a month plus insurance. I'm not talking about a few months, either. I'm talking about for as long as I live. It's crazy."

"Does this mean you've changed your mind about taking disability?"

Ray sat back, still unsure. "Don't know yet, but it's tempting. I mean, we could sure use the money until I get a job or something."

"You wouldn't necessarily have to get a job, Ray. You could stay home and work on your photography."

"Yeah, I could, but I'd probably go ga-ga if I stuck around the cabin alone all day, especially this winter. You know me, I'd only last a few weeks out here alone while you're working before I'd go off the deep end. I've got to have somebody to talk to, you know?"

"Yes, I do know."

Ray grinned and cocked his head. "It's a shame we can't do that liaison thing up here. We could knock a few heads in Yellowknife the same as Chicago, a duet just like before."

"I wish that were possible, Ray, but I hardly think it likely. The situation is a bit different here."

"That's a fact." Ray tidied the papers and then put them in the center of the table. "I'll think about all that later. When are we supposed to go eat?"

"In about half an hour. Chris gave me directions to their place."

"We need to take anything?"

"I thought we'd stop and get a dessert in town, perhaps a pie or cake."

"Chocolate pie sounds good."

"Chocolate pie it is."

"Great." Ray hesitated before he added, "I've been thinkin'."

"Oh, dear."

"Hardy har har, Mr. Comedian. Anyway, I was thinking about the Goat."

"Your car?"

"Yeah, it's not exactly the kind of car you bring this far north."

Ben nodded in agreement. "Even with snow tires, I'm afraid it wouldn't fare well after November. Still, if we build the outbuilding as planned, we can store it there until spring."

"Thanks, but no thanks. It'd be a waste of space. I want to give it to somebody who'll appreciate it."

Ben didn't bother to hide his shock. "Give it away? To whom?"

"I thought I'd give it to Peter."

Even more surprised, Ben asked, "Why Peter? He and Renny have several cars already."

"Sweet cars, the best, which is why I want him to have it. He'll know how to treat a classic. Besides, he'll have to have it fixed anyway, what with bullet holes and blood all over the front seat."

Pained by the reminder of Ray's close call with a shotgun blast through his driver's side window, Ben took his hand. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Ray. After all, it was Peter's fast thinking at the scene that saved your eyesight."

Ray touched his left eye with his free hand. "I know. I thought about that, too. I figure it's the least I can do. No way I'm sending it back to my old man or just selling it to a stranger."

"It's your car, Ray. You do what you think is best." Ben patted his hand and then released it.

"And after that, I'll need something else to drive. I'm thinking a nice four-wheel drive pick up."

"Which sounds remarkably sensible."

"Sensible, huh?"

"Yes, for the climate here, it's a very good choice."

"Good, that's settled then. When I've got a better handle on what I'm doing, we'll go shopping, find something with some spunk."

"Spunk?"

"Yeah, you know, get up and go, some punch, some fire power. I might have to give up a classic, but that doesn't mean I want to be some pussy riding around in a dud. It doesn't have to be anything flashy, but I want it to purr like a kitten, roar like a lion."

Ben smiled in amusement. "Is that all?"

"Actually, I was thinking of a red one."

"A red truck?"

"Yeah, Mountie red, you know, just so you can see me when it's snowing like hell and I'm driving around lost and crazy while you're at work this winter."

Chuckling, Ben shook his head and stood up. He moved closer and kissed the top of Ray's head. "You'll never be lost, Ray, not if I'm around."

Ray relaxed and grabbed Ben's arm, pulling him down closer for a real kiss, one that really counted. His tongue explored that hot, eager mouth and by the time he was finished, Ray knew that lost didn't really matter as long as they were together.

"Wow!" Ray stood on the front porch of their friends' place, seeing what looked more like a lodge than some simple cabin in the woods. In addition, it had a great view of the lake and lots of trees not more than a few hundred feet away. "I think I've got cabin envy or something."

"Close your mouth, Ray. It's not polite."

"Fuck polite. Show me the can in this place. Bet they've got a shower, too. Wonder if they sell tickets."

Before Ben answered, Eddie came outside and held the screen door open. Hair tied back and a big smile on his face, he motioned for them to come in. "Hurry, man, before you let any more bugs in."

Ben carried the bakery box and Ray the six pack of Coke inside. After Chris took the goodies, he went into the kitchen while Ray scanned the room. He loved the high beams, skylights, a loft over the backside of the house. Rugs in brown and red patterns covered the wall and an earthy watercolor landscape hung over the stone fireplace. "This is some joint. You guys build it yourself?"

Eddie shook his head. "I borrowed plans from a friend of mine who lives outside Seattle and made a few adjustments. Then we had a local guy build it when we first moved up here. There were a ton of headaches, but all in all, we're really pleased with it. Turned out great, man."

Ben took in the visual tour and nodded. "Indeed, it's a wonderful home. I noticed you have solar panels out back. What's the efficiency rating on that particular system?" Ben was off and running, he and Eddie doing a back and forth about power packs and stuff Ray had no idea about. He had no head for newfangled technology. He just wanted to be warm and cozy and not have to worry about how to get power to run all the stuff they needed like lights and stereos and things to keep him sane come winter. Thank god Fraser loved learning about all that shit.

Chris took pity and motioned for him to follow. They grabbed a couple of Cokes and headed outside to the front deck. The older man settled into one of the wooden lounge chairs and Ray leaned his butt back against the rail. "I wanted to thank you for staying last night."

"Not a problem. You two sure about the threat being over?"

"As sure as we can be." Ray took a long drink before he added, "Figure we'll find out soon enough. So tell me again why you were willing to put your ass on the line like that for free. I mean, I know you gave the whole spiel about brothers in arms and stuff, but even cops need to get paid. Why the freebie?"

Chris didn't speak right away, but when he did, he asked, "Fraser didn't tell you what I said?"

"He said you had your reasons, but nothing specific. Knowing Fraser, he's too polite to ask for details. So give. What's the lowdown about why you being willing to help protect some stranger for free?"

After a few swallows of soda, Chris spoke softly. "I have my reasons. Leave it at that."

"Come on, Frame. There's more to it than that."

"Tell you what, you tell me about your nightmare, and I'll tell you mine. You want details, you go first."

Ray studied the man for several long moments, figuring the guy must have had it tough to be so closed off about it. He understood that, knew how sometimes a guy just didn't have to explain everything damn thing he did. "Look, I'm sorry. I've got my own baggage. I guess all cops do if they stick around long enough."

"Yeah, so let's drop it."

"Sure, not a problem." He turned his back to Chris, checking out the lake view, and changed the subject. "This is really something. Bet it's wild in winter."

"It's pretty wild right now. Every morning I get up and see something new outside the door. This morning I saw a fox and a couple of elk. I never know what I'm going to see."

"Better than the discovery channel, huh?"

Chris snorted and took another drink. "Guess you didn't notice there's no satellite, huh?"

"You don't have a TV?"

"Used to."

Intrigued, Ray turned back around before he asked, "What happened?"

"Eddie decided it wasted too much energy. He had it taken out. Donated it to the local rec center along with the satellite dish."

"He did, huh? What about you? What'd you think?"

"I thought he was right, still do."

"You're telling me you don't watch TV, not ever?"

Chris shrugged. "Sometimes, if there's a big hockey game or something, we'll go into town to Mimi's or some other friend's place. But honestly, I don't miss it. I'm not home that much, especially in the summer, and Eddie's usually working on something."

"You don't miss it, not even a little bit?"

"Sometimes, not often. If I'm home, I'm usually working around the house, reading, or talking to Eddie." He held up a hand before Ray responded. "Look, I know it sounds dull as paint drying, but it works. Besides, when I watched TV, especially sports, I sometimes got too thirsty, if you know what I mean. It helps not having the set to remind me of how much fun drinking can be."

Ray remembered how Chris confessed to being an recovering alcoholic at Christmas when he'd caught Ray tossing back the booze after fighting with Ben. He shifted a little nervously before he figured out what to say. "So, you still sober these days?"

"Yeah. You?"

"So far, so good. Haven't had but a couple of beers in a long time."

"How long?"

"I’m not drinking now, that's all that matters."

"Is it?" Before Ray could argue, he asked, "When was the last time you thought about drinking?"

Uneasy, Ray shrugged, knowing how he wanted a drink all the time, always thirsty, always fighting off the urge to have just one. So, he lied. "I don't know. Why?"

"Sure you do, Ray." Then he leaned forward in his chair and repeated the question. "When was the last time you thought about drinking?"

"Why's that important?"

"Because always thinking about drinking makes it just as much a problem as the actual drinking."

"Yeah? How's that work? I mean, I can drink or not drink, but I can't control what my head thinks."

"Don't you get it?"

"Get what?"

"Thinking about drinking all the time is part of the problem, part of the disease. Until you get that under control, you'll always be one step from a drink, one step from being right back where you started."

Suddenly irritated, Ray snapped, "You always serve up a sermon when you invite people over? Must be a real crowd pleaser."

"I don't mean to preach, Ray. I'm just saying, I've been where you are, denying I had a problem, thinking I could handle it on my own. It almost cost me my life."

Ray took the bait. "Yeah? How so?"

Chris put his drink down and got up, walking over to stand beside Ray. "You really want to hear it?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Then come to my next meeting."

A chill ran through Ray and he shook his head. No way did he want to go that route. He had Ben, a new life, he didn't need the 12 steps crap. He wasn't like Chris, not so bad he couldn’t handle it. "Look, I'm glad AA works for you, but it's not me." He cleared his throat and tried to explain. "Look, you've got the wrong idea, okay? You caught me going through a rough patch last Christmas. It's not like I get drunk all the time. I mean, I appreciate your concern and everything, but I don’t need it. I'm good."

"You're good?"

"Better than ever. Ben and I, we're doing okay."

"What happens when you're not?"

"Nothing, because we're good and we're staying that way. I'm telling you, it’s not a problem."

Chris stared at him an extra moment, then reluctantly nodded in acceptance. "Whatever you say, Ray. You change your mind, let me know. There are meetings several times a day down at the community center."

"You go every day?"

"Sometimes more. Depends on what kind of day I'm having."

Ray shook his head in confusion. "I don't get it. I mean, you seem to have your shit together. Isn't Eddie enough?"

"It's not about Eddie. It's about me. It's about a disease, Ray."

Suddenly uneasy with the whole conversation, Ray stood straighter, ready to head back inside. "Look, I'm glad it's working for you, I am. I mean, that's really great. It's just not me."

"Whatever you say. Why don't we go in and see what our better halves are doing to solve the energy crisis?"

Ray couldn't move fast enough. The sooner he left the front porch, the sooner Chris would shut up about shit Ray didn't want to hear about, not then, not ever.

Driving home in the Jeep, Ray focused on the road while Ben read through some of the energy brochures Eddie gave him. Ray had to hand it to the kid, he was a lot of fun and entertaining as hell. Not to mention, the guy could cook almost as good as Fraser. Plus, the way Eddie handled Chris was a show in itself. Mr. Gruff guy was just a big old softie when it came to Eddie. Do this, do that, the guy never said no even though he bitched and complained the whole time.

"You're terribly quiet, Ray. Are you okay?"

"You ever think about what it is that brings two people like Chris and Eddie together? I mean, on the surface it's night and day, oil and water. They're nothing alike, but they're obviously tight."

"I think we've had this conversation before, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Peter and Renny, Chris and Eddie, you and I. We all are examples of men who, for whatever reasons, seem to gravitate to a partner who complements our needs and desires."

"Compliments, huh? Like when I say you're the best looking Mountie on the planet and you tell me I'm a great tough guy kind of thing?"

Ben chuckled and shook his head. "More along the lines of logic marries instinct. I set them up and you knock them down. I have faith and you have strength of will."

"I get it, complement is like fitting together."

"Precisely."

"Makes a guy wonder though how guys like Chris and Eddie don't end up knocking each other's block off. For a little guy, Eddie sure is bossy."

"You think so?"

"Did you see the way Chris hopped to it anytime Eddie said so?"

"I did, but I didn't see it as a problem. They've obviously found a system that works for them."

"Just seems weird, that's all."

"I don't know what's weird about it, Ray. It's not like Eddie asked Chris to do anything outrageous or difficult."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm just saying it's peculiar that a guy like Chris, a tough guy, an ex-cop, a guy who obviously could wipe the floor with the kid, doesn't mind being bossed around, that's all."

"Well, I didn't find it peculiar as much as charming."

"Charming? How's it charming?"

"Obviously they love one another very much and they've found a way to overcome their differences and difficulties."

Keeping an eye on the road, Ray asked, "Did you know Chris goes to AA everyday?"

"Does he?"

"Eddie say anything about that?"

"Why would Eddie discuss Chris's AA attendance with me?"

"I don't know. Just thought he might. Seems Chris thinks I have a problem."

"Considering the situation at Christmas, that's understandable."

Ray bit his lower lip, working to keep his temper in check. He didn't want to blow up and go to bed all pissed off. "Look, for whatever reason, the guy's got the wrong idea. I was just thinking maybe you and Eddie talked about that kind of stuff or something."

"No, we didn't. However, should we ever do so, I'd tell you about it."

"Yeah? You'd tell me about it?"

"I'd never talk to Eddie about my concerns about your drinking unless I'd also expressed the same thing to you. It wouldn't be fair to you to do so."

Relieved, Ray nodded a few times. "Thanks for that. You got concerns, you tell me. We'll work it out. Thing is, I don't plan to give you any reason for concern."

"That's good to know, Ray. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Not satisfied to drop it and leave well enough alone, Ray continued, "I just think sometimes people like Chris, you know, the reformed boozers, get a little too slaphappy with being sober and see problems that aren't there, you know?" When Ben didn't respond, Ray glanced over and asked, "What do you think?"

"I think Chris is very brave to admit he has a problem and is willing to do something about it."

It was like a long dive into Lake Michigan, the icy water washing over his body. "You still think I have a problem?"

"It's not a matter of what I think, Ray. It's up to you to say whether you do or not."

"Don't do that, Fraser, don't put it on me. You either do or you don't think what you think. You think I still have a problem or not?"

Ben stared out the window, refusing to look over. "I don’t want to fight about this, Ray."

"Who's fighting?"

"From the sound of things, you're fighting with yourself and you want to drag me into it."

"How am I doing that? I'm not doing that."

"I'm tired, Ray. Let's just go home and go to bed."

Ray fought down a fresh rush of anger. They drove almost home before he finally spoke again. "I don't have a problem, Ben. It pisses me off when you act like you think I do."

"You've made that perfectly clear."

"Look, let's just forget about it for now. We've had a pretty good day, what with getting O'Malley off our backs. I don't want to spoil it."

"Agreed."

When they reached the cabin, Ray parked the car in the driveway, but he didn't get out. Instead, he turned sideways in the seat and reached over to stroke Ben's face. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be such a jerk."

"Then don't be."

"Force of nature sometimes. My mouth runs off before I can catch it."

Ben turned his head, his eyes sad and serious. "I love you, but you don't always make it easy."

Suddenly defensive, Ray fought back. "You're not the easiest guy to live with, either."

"I know that, but we both have to try harder. Picking a fight with me because you're angry about what Chris said isn't acceptable."

Reluctantly, Ray had to agree. "Okay, okay, I get that. You're right. I got a problem with Frame, I take it to him. It's just —"

"Just what?"

"Just you keep giving me this face, this face that says you still don't think I've got it together."

Ben sighed and shook his head, capturing his hand before Ray pulled it away. "Ray, Ray, Ray, on the contrary, I think you've made remarkable progress."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, but you still have some serious issues. Those don't go away just because O'Malley was murdered. Right now we're going through tremendous changes, you and I, starting a new life here in Canada, you changing careers, dealing with your trauma. Any one of those would be difficult. It's understandable to be anxious. Just don't take that frustration out on me."

Jesus, was that what he was doing? Ray suddenly felt like sixty piles of dog shit. "I don't mean to."

Ben kissed the palm of his hand. "Let's go inside. It's been an eventful day, and I, for one, am extremely tired."

Ray nodded, knowing that beat as he was himself, sleep wasn't in the cards. His brain held the pedal to the metal and kept spinning the wheels. No way would he be snoozing anytime soon. Still, he figured he'd let Ben go to sleep and then he'd do some sketching, take his mind off the whispers of doubts that kept nagging at the back of his mind.

Two in the morning and Ray put the finishing touches on the drawing of Dief curled up in front of the fire. Just as he sat back, satisfied with the result, Ben called from the bed. "Ray, why aren't you sleeping?"

"Can't sleep."

Ray flipped the page in his sketchbook and did some initial strokes to start the next picture. Ben got out of bed, wearing just his boxer briefs and a T-shirt. He sat down at the table, rubbing his right eye. "Ray, you need to rest."

"Go back to bed. Let me finish this last one and I'll give it a shot."

"Ray —"

"Ben."

"Why can't you sleep?"

"Too much going on."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No. I want to draw." Ray worked from memory and drew one of the eagles he photographed last winter. His hand suddenly had this magical link to the images in his head. What he saw, he brought to life on the page. The process relaxed him, made it easier to just focus on the pictures and not on the dread that lurked like a shadow just out of his line of sight.

Ben watched for several minutes, fascinated. "You're getting better all the time, Ray."

"Thanks."

"I mean it. You were good before, but this, this is amazing."

Ray stopped for a moment, studying the sketch. He didn't like to brag, but he could definitely see the improvement. "It's like I can actually see it on the page now before I even draw the first line. It's almost like I'm cheating or something."

"You couldn't see it before?"

"I could, but not like now. It's like before I was shooting with no glasses."

"But now it's like you're wearing your glasses and can actually see the target?"

"Exactly."

"Remarkable."

"It's pretty cool."

"I'm impressed."

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it, Ray. Your talent is quite inspiring."

Cheeks heated as Ray put his pencil down. "I know it shouldn't, but it makes me feel good to hear you say that."

"Why shouldn't it make you feel good, Ray? Everyone likes to be praised for their achievements. Why should you be any different?"

"I don’t know. I guess I always wanted to think I didn't care what other people thought, but I know that's pretty much bullshit. I care a lot about what you think."

Ben reached over and took Ray's hand. "Please, come to bed. Finish in the morning."

"Sure, okay."

Reluctantly, Ray got up and went to the bed with Ben. He shed his jeans and crawled in, wearing just his underwear. Ray shivered as Ben wrapped him in his arms. He kissed Ray's temple and whispered, "It'll be fine, Ray. I promise."

"You can't promise that. You can do a lot of things, but you can't see the future."

"No, but I can do all I can to make sure that we're okay."

"I can, too. Doesn't make it so. I mean, I don't know what gets into me sometimes, picking fights, starting stuff. I don't want to fuck this up, but it's like I go out of my way to be an asshole sometimes."

Ben smoothed down Ray's hair and kissed him again. "It's going to be fine. Now, go to sleep, Ray."

Closing his eyes, more relaxed, Ray asked, "Would you sing that song from last night?"

Ben didn't wait to be asked twice. He just sang and Ray listened, let his body ease into the darkness, the unknown and scary territory of sleep.

The chirp of the phone had Ben out of bed in two seconds flat. He didn't want to wake Ray, so he opened the line quickly as he stepped outside on the porch. "Constable Fraser here."

"Constable. I'm sorry to call you so early, but I thought you'd want to know the situation as soon as possible."

"Situation, sir?"

Inspector Thatcher spoke quietly from the other end of the line. "What did you ever do to Superintendent Bullweather to incur such hostility?"

Ben crossed his arms, his heart sinking. It took several seconds to catch his breath enough to speak. "Joshua Bullweather?"

"The same. He's in charge of postings and the person I had to convince to approve the transfer."

Almost afraid to say the words, but needing to know, Ben asked, "Did he approve it, sir?"

"He did, but not without some awkward and difficult discussions. Pressure from Assistant Commissioner Meers helped as well."

Ben remembered Meers from Gerrard's trial, how he'd warned him of the consequences of turning in a fellow Mountie, regardless of the fact that Gerrard killed his father. It seemed Meers felt he'd served his time for his failure to honor the unwritten code and deserved to finally return home. "I appreciate your entreaty on my behalf."

"What about Bullweather? Why did he need so much convincing?"

"I couldn't say, sir."

"You're telling me that there's no personal history between the two of you, Constable?"

"I’m saying, I haven't seen Joshua Bullweather since my first posting after the Depot, sir. He was my commanding officer at that time." He didn't add any details of their abusive sexual history. His head spun at the irony that Joshua, of all people, would be the one to hold his future in his hands. "Did the Superintendent say anything to suggest otherwise?"

"He didn’t have to. I'm not an idiot. I know when a man is playing games, Constable."

Hanging his head, Ben closed his eyes as he spoke. "Games, sir?"

"He's got some grudge against you, that was clear. It took a lot of persuasive arguments to get him to agree to let you leave Chicago and return to Canada and that reluctance had nothing to do with you turning in Gerrard."

"I appreciate your efforts, Inspector. It means a lot to me that you'd go to the extra trouble of speaking on my behalf."

"You're welcome. I hope Yellowknife is all you want it to be. I just thought I'd warn you that I feel a bit uneasy about the Superintendent's reaction to this whole affair. You might want to be on guard."

The hairs on the back of Ben's neck stood straight up at the warning. "Why's that, sir?"

"Just a feeling. I know that he's retiring in a few months and there have been rumors of scandal. Not that I listen to such tittle-tattle, mind you. It's just that sometimes men like Bullweather, powerful men who have a lot at stake, feel threatened if certain aspects of their past might possibly surface."

Ben acted oblivious to what she said, at what she hinted. He wanted no part of Bullweather or his scandals. The past was supposed to be dead. Lord knows, he'd worked hard enough to bury it. "Sir?"

Thatcher's sigh traveled all the way from Chicago over the cell phone line. "Might I speak plainly, Constable?"

"Please do."

"It's none of my business what happened between you two. However, you should be aware that there are tales of sexual misconduct in reference to Bullweather's earlier postings."

Hugging himself, Ben used every ounce of control to keep his voice steady. "What does that have to do with me, Inspector?"

"It has to do with the fact that if he, in some way, feels threatened by your return, he might do something to discredit you. I'm just saying this as a precaution. I have no absolute evidence of any wrongdoing or possible nefarious behavior on his part towards you. It's just a bad feeling."

"A hunch, as it were, sir?"

"I suppose your partner's penchant for such things rubs off. Regardless, I'd like you to know you have the transfer, effective immediately. The paperwork should be at the Yellowknife headquarters first thing in the morning. The commanding officer is Inspector Henry Hathaway. See him in the next few days and he can set you up with a schedule for returning to work."

Relieved, Ben sat down on the top step of the porch. "Thank you, Inspector. We appreciate everything you've done."

She hesitated before she spoke. "Feel free to check in periodically to keep me apprised of your life there. I'm sure Turnbull would approve of you keeping in touch as well."

"I will, sir. It's been a pleasure serving with you."

"And with you, Constable. You're a remarkable officer."

"Thank you."

"Goodbye and good luck." Inspector Thatcher cut the connection and Ben turned off the phone. He put his head down on the top of his knees, shaken and shaking. He officially had the transfer back to Canada. They'd finally let him come home.

Yet as happy as he was for that, the threat of Joshua Bullweather made his head spin. He wanted nothing to do with the man who'd made his life a living hell, who'd laughed at the pain he inflicted. Bullweather had broken his spirit and his body, made him question his own sanity more times than he could count. Over the years he'd managed to come to terms with how that happened, how he'd allowed someone to treat him so dreadfully. Now, it all came to forefront once again, or as Ray would say, his shame was alive and kicking.

The door opened behind him and he heard a sleepy voice. "Ben?"

He lifted his head, pasted a smile on his face, and said, "I have the transfer."

"That's good, right?"

"Of course it is."

Ray stepped closer and sat beside him. "Then why do you look like somebody just kicked you in the gut?"

Ben opened his mouth, started to say the words, but didn't. He couldn't tell Ray about Bullweather. What would be the point? He'd only get angry and worry. Instead, Ben chose to speak a lie of omission, words that would haunt him later. "I suppose I was just anxious."

"Scared they'd say no, huh?"

"Yes. I didn't realize how much a strain it was to wonder if they'd have me back."

Ray drew him into a hug, kissed his cheek, and whispered, "You're home, Ben."

Tears stung his eyes as Ben's head rested against Ray's chest. He let go just a little, his words choked with emotion he couldn't hold back. "And you're with me."

"Always. You bet. Couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Ray."

Ray squeezed him harder and pulled his head up to give him a kiss. Then he stopped, studying him more closely. "You sure it's just the whole coming back home thing? There's not something else bugging you?"

Ben captured Ray's mouth, silencing the question he never wanted to answer.

Ray didn't read all that good, but he read Ben like a sexy bestseller. Something was hinky with Fraser, but he didn't know just what, not yet. Ray sat at the table, drinking his coffee, watching as his partner washed the dishes from breakfast. "That must be one hell of a dirty plate."

Ben kept scrubbing the thing over and over. "Why is that?"

"Well, you've been going at it for about ten minutes. Must be clean as a whistle by now."

Ben stopped, stared at the plate, like he just realized what he was doing. He rinsed it one last time and then picked up the next one. "Sometimes egg is resistant to removal."

"Yeah, that must be it." After Ray watched Ben go after the other dish with just as much vigor, he tried again. "You want to tell me what's really going on? You freaked out about the new job?"

"No."

"Not even a little?"

"Well, of course, there's always a hint of apprehension whenever one has a new posting."

"But that's not it, huh? That's not what's bugging you. So, what is?"

"I don't know what you mean, Ray."

Ray took his mug to the stove and poured himself another cup before doctoring it with some sugar. Instead of sitting back down, he leaned back against the edge of the sink, just a few inches from Ben. More focused on the plate than ever, Ben didn't look up. Ray nudged him with his hip. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"I’m trying to finish the dishes. We've got a lot to do this morning."

"I know, but —"

"You've got your doctor's appointment and I thought I'd check in with Inspector Hathaway at headquarters while you had your physical therapy session, that is, if it meets with your approval."

"Sure, that's fine, but —"

"And then I thought we'd contact Stevie Garvey, set up an initial meeting to discuss the cabin renovation. I also need to call Special Agent Crenshaw to make it official that we're not returning to Chicago. I need to write out a thank you note to Chris and Eddie for inviting us to dinner, not to mention their help —"

Ray put a finger to Ben's lips and shushed. "Slow down, Ben. You act like you're on crack or something. What's with you this morning?"

Ben still didn't look up, didn't make eye contact. "There's just a lot to do, that's all."

"You're sure that's it?"

"Ray, I need to finish these."

Maybe it was just nerves. Even Mounties got panicky sometimes, right? Reluctantly, Ray let it go, even though he knew deep down he was missing something. "Go ahead, finish. Knock yourself out. I'm going to take a quick run to the can."

Ray put down his coffee and stepped to the door. Ben turned, almost out of breath. "I love you, Ray."

"I love you, too."

That said, Ben nodded in relief and then turned back to the dishes. Ray shook his head to clear it, wondering what the hell he was missing. He walked outside, took a deep cleansing breath, only to have Dief nudge his hand and whine. Ray went down on one knee, frowning and petting Dief's thick fur. "What it is, buddy? What's wrong?"

All he got was another whine and, hell, even the wolf was worried.

Ray sat on the exam table trying not to wince as Dr. Egan tugged and removed the last stitch. "That's it, Ray. All done."

Rubbing his left arm, Ray resisted the urge to scratch. "Feels itchy, kind of scabby."

"That will pass in a little bit. It just shows you're healing well. There's no sign of infection." Egan washed his hands and motioned with his head toward Ray's clothes. "You can put on your shirt now. Let's step over to my office. I'd like to discuss the results of your latest tests."

"They were okay, right?"

"I'd like to have the chart and notes in front of me when I talk to a patient. My mind's not quite as quick on the recall as it used to be."

Ray snorted as he buttoned up. "That's not something a guy likes to hear from his doctor, Doc."

"I imagine not, but it's true. The office is right across the hall. Join me when you're finished."

A few minutes later Ray found himself seated in front of a big desk, Egan wearing his glasses on the tip of his nose as he scanned the pages. Leg bouncing, Ray waited as long as he could before he cleared his throat. "So, what's the verdict?"

Egan closed the file, his face solemn and hard to read. "I believe the jury's still out on any final result. Your blood work shows you're still slightly anemic, but not enough to warrant more tests at this time." Ray sighed in relief, but Egan wasn't finished. "However —"

"However what?"

"I don't believe there's anything serious, or at least anything we can't address and resolve. I just think your body's been through a lot of trauma and stress in a very short time. I'd like to start you on some specially formulated vitamins that contain extra iron."

"Vitamins? That's it? That's good, right?"

"I'd also like to discuss your diet."

"My diet?"

"If you improve your diet, eventually there might not be a need for supplements. I'm going to give you a brochure that, hopefully, will help you increase your nutritional intake."

"I've always had trouble gaining weight. Used to drive my mom crazy. It's not a big deal."

Egan leaned forward, his voice calm, friendly even. "Ray, you're underweight from the norm for your build by almost twenty pounds and borderline anemic. This isn't normal, not if you're healthy otherwise."

"Okay, okay, I get that. So, I take the vitamins and eat the right stuff. Then I'll get better, right?"

"That's the plan, yes. Speaking of plans, are you planning to be here in two weeks or are you and Ben returning to the US?"

Ray beamed, happy to give him the good news. "Ben and I are staying in Yellowknife. He just got the word that his transfer came through this morning."

"That's wonderful, but what about your position as a detective in Chicago?"

Jarred by the reminder of leaving his old life, Ray grew more serious, realizing he had to come clean. "Look, I have to tell you something. Don't get mad or anything."

"Why would I be mad, Ray?"

"Well, I'm quitting the force, but while I was working, I was undercover. This whole Vecchio thing, well, that's not even my real name."

Egan sat back and studied him. "Are you saying you've been using a false name ever since you've been here?"

"For over a year I've been going as Vecchio, Ben's former partner. I can't get into the details about the real Vecchio, that's probably still classified since it's a federal operation, but I figured you should know since you're my doctor. My name's Ray Kowalski, Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

"Your name is Stanley Kowalski?"

"Yeah, I get that reaction a lot. My dad had a thing for Brando. For me, it was always Steve McQueen."

Processing the news, Dr. Egan took off his glasses, cleaned them with a handy cloth, and then put them back on slowly. "This is really bizarre and a little confusing."

"Tell me about it. I finally get my name back."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I feel good, relieved even. I'd done undercover before, but nothing like this. This got really complicated in a hurry."

"Because of your relationship with Ben?"

"No, not really, not at the beginning. Ben and I, we didn't get together until right before Christmas, right after…" Ray's voice trailed off, his eyes closed. Shuddering, he fought down the slam of memories of the attack he'd suffered. For a second Clooney's fists pounded him as pain arched through his middle. Dizzy and trapped in his head, Ray stopped breathing, begging for it to pass, to be over, to make it stop hurting.

Egan's voice broke in. "Ray? Are you all right?"

A few seconds later, air slowly filled his lungs, but he still shivered. "I will be." Ray opened his eyes, fight down the urge to either throw up or start bawling again. "I just don't like thinking about back then."

"When you were sexually assaulted, you mean?"

Fuck, he'd forgotten that it was all in his records, all in black and white for any guy with a medical degree to read. "Yeah, I guess."

Egan hesitated, but then leaned forward, his hands together. "You still can't talk about it, can you?"

Shrugging, Ray avoided those piercing eyes. He had no idea why he even brought it up, why he'd even had the flashback. "No reason to. I'm okay now. I just can't work anymore, that's all."

"You mean as a police officer?"

"Yeah, I get shaky and a little crazy about stuff. It's hard to explain, but it's like nothing works right anymore when it comes to being a cop. I used to be good, but now, now all I do is fuck up, get people killed, get myself all shot up." Ray glanced up and apologized. "Sorry. Ben hates when I cuss."

"It's okay. You've been through a difficult time." Egan took a moment before he asked, "Did you see a therapist while you were recovering from the attack last year?"

"Had to. They'd have chained me to a desk otherwise."

"And did that help?"

"I saw two different shrinks. Hated one, but the other was okay. Don't think she fixed me completely, but she helped. I can get by now."

"And is that good enough for you, Ray, to get by?"

"It's better than not getting by, like it was before." Ray swallowed hard as he ran a hand through his hair. "I just try not to think about it."

"And how's that working for you?"

"Some days are better than others. It helps that Ben understands." Ray finally looked up and met Egan's worried gaze. "You know about what happened with him and that Bullweather guy, right? He told me you treated him back then, back when he just started out and the guy hurt him."

Egan shook his head, refusing to cooperate, to confirm Ray's suspicions of how bad it really was. "I can't talk about Ben's medical history, Ray, not unless he releases me to do so."

"But we're partners."

"I know that, but that doesn’t matter. I need his permission to discuss it, just like I'd need your permission to discuss your details with Ben."

"Which you have, except for the fucked up head part." Ray shrugged before he added, "It's just he hardly ever talks about it."

"Perhaps when he's ready."

"Yeah, maybe. I mean, I can understand wanting to forget about shit, to pretend like it never happened."

"Ray, I'd like to make a suggestion."

"Yeah?" Ray glanced up, thinking Egan might say something else about his diet, but getting something totally different.

"I'd like to recommend a local doctor."

"What for? You're my doctor."

"Yes, for your body, but there are limits to what I can do. Dr. Murphy is excellent and deals with this sort of trauma."

Ray leaned forward, his head in both hands, fit to be tied. Fuck. "Murphy a shrink?"

"He's a psychologist, yes, and he's not only very professional, but very personable. I think you'd like him and he might help you deal with some obviously painful issues."

Still bent over, still trying to keep from screaming, Ray shook his head. "I don’t want a shrink. I don't need one."

"I'm afraid you might be wrong about that. I think you do."

Ray sat up at that, angry as hell. "You don't know me. You don't know dick about who I am or what I've been through."

"I know enough to see that you're not over what happened."

Ray stood up, pacing back and forth, his arms crossed over his chest as he spoke. "Look, I'll take the vitamins and eat better. Ben'll love that. But, I'm not seeing some head jockey about what happened."

"Why not? What are you so afraid of?"

Ray stopped pacing, his voice strained, and his gut knotted. "I’m not afraid. I just want to fucking forget about it."

"It doesn't work that way, Ray."

"Yeah? Well, why the fuck not?"

Egan's voice never wavered, just got softer, like he really gave a shit. "I don’t know. I wish I could tell you that, I really do. What I can tell you is that Dr. Murphy's been very good with some of my other patients. I'd very much like you to at least consider it."

Shaking, Ray settled back into the chair. He hugged himself and wondered why in the hell it felt like it might snow any minute. "What if I say no? You still going to treat me?"

"Of course I'll treat you. I'll just continue to mention it as a possibility."

Slowly, Ray took a couple of deep breaths, relieved that there wouldn't be a big fight about changing doctors. "Okay, I'll think about it, but that's the best I can do right now. I can't promise anything."

"Understood."

Ray smiled at the word, wondering if all Canadians did that, and if he stuck around long enough, if he'd pick up the habit. "So, these vitamins, do I get those at the drugstore?"

"Yes, but they're prescription." Egan scribbled something on a pad and ripped it off, handing it to Ray. Once he took it, Egan reached into another file on his desk and pulled out several booklets. "These should help you figure out what you need to eat to improve your nutrition. I'd like you to continue the physical therapy, get plenty of rest, and then come back in two weeks."

"What about working out in a gym? I've been thinking about doing that. I need to get back in shape, maybe do some boxing." He didn’t add that he needed some way to work off a little steam from time to time, too.

"Hold off on the gym for now, at least until we see how much your leg improves. I'll reassess when you come back."

"Reassess? That mean more blood work?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. I'll decide then whether we need other tests, too. Also, should I change the name on your files to Kowalski or should I wait?"

Ray pondered that for about half a second. "Go for it."

Egan smiled and closed the folder. "Welcome to Canada, Ray Kowalski."

"Are you sure I should leave, Ray? I'm more than happy to wait while you do your therapy."

Ray waved Ben off as they walked toward the front of the rehab building. "Go. Go meet this Hathaway guy, see what he's like. He must not be too bad or Alan would've said something before you asked for the transfer."

"I'm sure he's fine, Ray. I just don't want to abandon you and —"

Ray stopped and turned. "Ben. Go. Check out the new job. I'll be okay."

Ben hesitated, his tongue darting out across his lower lip as he tugged at his left ear. If Ray didn't know better, he'd swear Ben couldn’t make up his mind, something that rarely happened. So, he gave him an opening. "Unless you want to just hang around reading dusty old magazines for an hour while I get tortured. Then we could go and check out the new guy together. I could be your back up."

"I don't think I'll need back up, Ray, but thank you for the offer. I suppose I should go and check in, make sure the forms are in order. I could also use their phone to call Special Agent Crenshaw."

"Yeah, save me the trouble of gloating. Son of a bitch lost his patsy."

Ben missed his cue to fuss about the cursing. "I'll only go if you're sure you'll be all right on your own. I feel remiss in leaving you alone."

"You're not remiss, Ben. I got a clean bill of health, well, sort of, and there's no shooter waiting in the bushes. Just go and have fun with the other Mounties."

"You're sure?"

Ray checked out his watch like he was timing a race. "You don't hop to it and get gone in about ten seconds, I'm liable to change my mind, so get going."

Ben took him seriously and nodded, "As you wish. I'll be back in an hour to take you to lunch at Mimi's and talk about the best course of action concerning the remodeling."

"Fine, whatever. Right now I need to get inside." Ray leaned in and did a peck on the cheek, fully expecting to kiss and run. Instead, Ben grabbed him and pulled him into a big Mountie bear hug. He held him really tight before squeezing and releasing. Stunned, Ray sputtered, "Whoa, what's that about?"

"I'll miss you."

"Ben, you're only going into town for an hour." A sudden panic hit Ray like a hammer. It explained everything, all the nervous twitches, the dazed looks, Ben being distracted as hell all morning. "Unless you're leaving for good. You taking off and this is your big farewell, your so long, good riddance to Ray deal?"

Ben snatched his arm nearly hard enough to bruise. "Why in the world would you think I'm leaving because I hugged you?"

Still edgy, still not convinced, Ray shook his head. "You've been acting like a nut job all morning. What am I supposed to think?"

"Good God, Ray, not that."

They moved to the side of the walk as a couple passed by, doing their best to pretend they weren't witnesses to a domestic dispute. As soon as they were gone, Ray hissed, "So what is it? Why are you acting so queer?"

"Because I am queer, as you put it, Ray."

"I don't mean queer queer. You know what I mean. What's going on with you and don’t give me any of that it's nothing bullshit, either. I want to know and I want to know now."

Ben still held his arm, but released it. He stood up straighter and smoothed down the front of his denim shirt, the one he'd ironed stiff all morning, before he nervously straightened his hat. "I can't."

"You can't?"

"Not now and not here. When you finish your session, we'll go home and I'll tell you then."

"Jesus, Ben, what the fuck is it? Are you sick? What?"

"I'm not sick and I'm not leaving, nothing like that." Ben stepped into his space, his voice soft. "I'll tell you later, I promise."

"Promise promise or are you just saying you promise so I don't go crazy?"

"A little of both, I'm afraid."

Ray held his head between both his fists, the pain shooting like spikes right into his temples. "Just tell me. I'm no good at waiting. Just fucking tell me and put me out of my misery."

"I didn't want to tell you at all, but I should've known that as good as you are as a detective, I couldn't hide it."

Insane, he was going fucking insane and it was all Ben's fault. Ray took a big breath and gave Ben his best evil eye. "What is it you're hiding?"

"Joshua Bullweather is the one who approved my transfer, but apparently, he was reluctant to do so. Inspector Thatcher has warned me to be on guard for reprisal."

The name stunned like a kick to the balls. Ray's mouth opened and shut a few times as he played the name over in his head, all the terrible things Ben had told him of the man and what he'd done. Fuck, no wonder Ben was a head case. Ray could barely speak, but he managed a tight whisper. "Is this the same prick who fucked with you years ago?"

"I'm afraid so, yes. He's a superintendent now."

"Shit rises."

"Ray —"

"Don't Ray me. When did you find out? When Thatcher called?"

"Yes. She said he was difficult to convince about the transfer but relented under pressure from herself and Deputy Commissioner Meers." Ben cleared his throat, and his voice shook a little. "I confess to being at a loss when I heard his name again, Ray."

"Okay, I get that, but why didn't you tell me right away?"

"I wanted to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?"

"I knew you'd be angry. I wasn't sure how to react myself. I quite honestly didn't know if I could deal with your reactions as well."

Ray took it all in, wondered if he really was a raving lunatic, someone who scared Ben enough that he kept this kind of kickass secret to himself. Fuck that. "You were wrong. You should've told me right off."

"I'm sorry." Ben shook his head and then touched his temple like he had a headache. "I've been quite beside myself, Ray. What if he comes here, tries to ruin what we have?"

"What if he does?"

Ben's head jerked up as his eyes finally focused completely on him. "What?"

"I said, what if he does? I mean, what the fuck can this jerk do more than what he's already done?"

"He could make life very difficult, Ray. He's a superintendent now and has the power to transfer me anywhere he pleases."

"No, he can't. He might think he can, but he can't. Fuck him. You've got the goods on his sorry ass. He threatens to do anything and you can file charges or something."

"The statutes of limitations would restrict my ability —"

"Okay, okay, so you couldn't file official charges, but you could do something, say something. You're not just some green kid fresh out of the snow bank, Ben." Ray stepped closer, touched his face, his voice softer. "And you're not alone, not unless you cut me out of the loop again. You do that one more time and I might have to do something drastic, like make you sleep on the porch or run laps around the cabin."

The stress melted away right in front of him. Ben closed his eyes and soaked in Ray's touch. He whispered, "I’m sorry, Ray. It won't happen again."

"Better not." Ray leaned over and kissed Ben, ignoring the guy who kept staring at them as he passed by. When they were alone on the sidewalk again, Ray took a deep calming breath. "We're not done with this, not by a long shot, but Murphy's going to have my balls if I don't get inside soon."

Ben growled deep in his throat, his voice low and intimate. "Your balls are mine, Ray, nobody else's."

Irritation faded just a little and Ray managed more of a grin than a snarl. "Figure of speech. My balls are yours. Got it." Before Ben pulled away, Ray added one more thing. "And you pull this shit one more time and I'm goin' to rip your balls off and put 'em in a fucking vise. Count on it."

"Ease up, Ray, before you hurt yourself."

Huffing and puffing, Ray stopped his alternate leg lifts. "What? I thought the point was to work out."

"It is, but working too hard can cause more damage than good. Just slow down and don't try so hard."

Ray wiped the sweat from his forehead and started again. Breathing through his mouth like the therapist said, hands on his hips, he then lifted his leg in front of him, just like kicking a football in slow motion. The movements tugged at the muscles in his ass, sharp little pains shooting across his back and down through his thigh. He ignored his body's complaints and kept up the motion. In his head, he was kicking Bullweather's fat ass all across Canada.

"Ray, Ray, Ray —"

"What!"

"Stop what you're doing and sit down on the bench." Reluctantly, Ray did what she said. She handed him a water bottle. "Drink."

After he downed half, he used the sleeve of his T-shirt to wipe his mouth and face. He was damn tempted to the pour the rest over his head to cool off. Instead, he held it back out to her. "Thanks."

She ignored the water and asked, "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"What? I’m working out, warming up, getting back in shape. That's what I'm supposed to do, right?"

"You act pissed."

"Nice mouth you got there, Murphy. I thought Canadians didn't cuss."

"Ray —"

"All right, all right. Sorry. I'll do better."

"No, you won't, not until you tell me what's going on. Did I do something to make you angry?"

Surprised she'd think that, Ray shook his head. "Of course not. It's not you."

"Then what, you get in a fight with your partner?"

"Not really, well, maybe a little one, but he's not the one I'm really mad at."

"Then who?"

"Can't say." Ray took a deep breath and rubbed his face with both hands, his whiskers rough on his palms. Guess he should start shaving closer again now that his face was healing up. "Look, I'll do better. Why don't we just do the pool thing?"

"You'd be less likely to pull something in the water, that's true, but we're not done here yet." She stepped in closer. "Listen, you've got to pay attention to what I tell you. Otherwise, you could end up in worse shape than when you got here. You want that?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just a little wound up."

"I noticed."

Ray sat there for a long moment while she stared at him before he decided to take a chance. "Let me ask you something."

"Okay."

"Hippo… hypo… pretend like —"

"You mean hypothetically?"

"Yeah, that, hypowhatsis. Suppose you had a friend who had this partner."

"A friend who has a partner, right. Go on."

Ray backtracked and stopped himself as he shook his head. He wanted more than anything to get some other viewpoint about the whole Bullweather mess, but he couldn't betray a confidence. Ben wouldn't do that to him, so no way he could spill the beans, either. He waved her off. "No, I can't talk about this. It's not right. I want to, but I can't."

Kate touched his shoulder. "You want my advice?"

"If it's free, sure, why not?"

"Just talk to your partner about what's bothering you."

"Yeah, I want to, but it's got a lot to do with him and it's complicated."

"It usually is."

Calmer, Ray shrugged. "Look, I'm sorry all this other stuff is getting in the way. I can do this. Just let me try again."

"Only if you promise to follow my lead and not get carried away again. You do that and we stop. Got it?"

"Got it."

Ray stood up, obeying carefully as she directed him as to how high to kick and how fast to go. By the time they finished, his whole back ached and his leg throbbed like crazy. As he sat back down on the workout bench, she handed him the rest of the water. "That was much better. You focus pretty good when you want to."

"Yeah, it just takes a lot of energy."

"Still, by the end of two weeks, you'll tell a big difference. Now, let's hit the pool. We're running a little late, so it might take us a few minutes longer than before. Is that okay with your partner? I don’t want him to have to wait too long."

"It's okay. He's checking out the other Mounties this morning."

"What's that mean?"

"It means his transfer came through. We're staying in Yellowknife."

Her face brightened. "Ray, that's great."

"Yeah, it is. We've got the cabin, the land, and now he's got a job. It's all working out."

"Is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you were mad about something. Does it have something to do with the transfer?"

Ray studied her for a moment and then shook his head with a weak grin. "You sure you're not some amateur busybody or something? You ask more questions than half the flatfoots in Chicago."

"Sorry. Force of habit. Sean's always asking questions. Guess I pick it up from him."

"Sean's your husband, right?" Bam, bam, bam, it hit him. Egan's head jockey was married to his fucking physical therapist. Hell, why not? Might as well keep it in the family, right? "Dr. Murphy as in that Dr. Murphy. Fuck." Ray stood up, suddenly ready to punch the wall. "It's like a fucking conspiracy."

"Ray, calm down. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm done for the day. I'm out of here. I've got to go."

"Ray, we're not finished."

"Yeah, we are. My head's all over the place."

"I don't understand. What's my husband got to do with anything?"

"Nothing, he's got nothing to do with me or anything else. I don't need a fucking shrink."

Instead of getting pissed off, she just shook her head and chided, "Oh, yeah, I can see that. You're right as rain, good as gold. Got any other cliché's I can use to pretend you're not seriously unhinged?"

Ray turned, still steamed and ready for a fight. "I am not crazy."

"Of course not."

"I'm not."

"I didn't say you were."

"Implied it."

"Might have, but for a good reason. You're acting a little off your rocker here, Ray. What am I supposed to think?"

Several of the other people in the room stopped PT and stared at them, faces anxious because of the raised voices. Ray swallowed hard, his anger suddenly gone, his cheeks heated with embarrassment. He stepped closer and slumped down on the bench, suddenly way too tired to keep fighting. The others started their workouts again and he spoke softly. "I guess I kind of overreacted a little."

"I'd say so."

"It's just…"

She waited a second or two and then pushed. "Just what, Ray?"

"Dr. Egan, he suggested I see somebody."

The light dawned. "Oh, shit, I see. He recommended Sean."

"Yeah. I'm not going, though."

"Of course not. Why would you need to see somebody? Waste of time really."

Ray lifted his head and studied her. He heard the challenge in the words and the anger swelled up one more time. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I need a shrink, too? You don't even know me. We just met a few days ago. You've got no idea of who I am or what I've been through."

"I get to know my clients pretty quickly, working so close. Face it, Ray. You're a pretty uptight guy. You're so tense and wound up that even your knots have knots. It's obvious that something's eating you up inside because you're always so edgy. Plus, I've seen the scars. I mean, they're pretty extensive, so it'd be hard not to notice. I'm no psychologist, but I do know that it sometimes helps to talk to somebody when you've been through a lot of trauma."

Ray didn't want to think about the scars, how bad they looked to other people. Half the time, he just tried to forget about them, pretend they weren't there. He shook his head to clear it, to get the image of all the damage out of his head. In his defense, he turned the tables. "Yeah, well, you can talk to your old man about your troubles, free of charge."

"I'm not talking about just talking to my husband. Sure, Sean's great, but I'm not an unbiased opinion on that. I'm talking about seeing someone professionally, someone objective. Everybody's got problems and there's nothing wrong with letting somebody help you through the rough patches."

"You've seen a shrink even though you're married to one?"

"Yeah, before and after I married him."

"I don’t get it."

Kate stepped closer, her voice lower to keep the rest of the room from eavesdropping. "I've got issues, Ray. I won't bore you with the details, because you don't need to know and it wouldn't be professional. I can vouch for the fact, that for me, anyway, seeing somebody helped. Didn't fix everything, but it helped make the days and nights easier. That's all I'm saying. Nobody can force you to go see a counselor. Won't help unless you go on your own."

"But it helped?"

"Yeah, it did."

Ray shrugged, wondering if she might have a point. "It helped Ben, too. He went for a while. Made a big difference. With me, well, it didn't seem to help that much."

"Maybe you weren't ready."

"Yeah, maybe."

After a couple of long moments of silence, she patted his shoulder. "You want to try the pool or not?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll try not to bug out too much this time. You know me and water."

Kate snorted and headed off to the pool. "Put your trunks on, Ray, and meet me there. I won't let you drown, promise."

"Sure. Be there in a minute."

As she walked away, Ray sighed and closed his eyes. He'd gone off on the woman for no reason, pissed off and ready to tear something up. He hated being so mad all the time, all wound up and what was the word Kate used, edgy? Stella used to call him that, too. Wonder what Ben thought, like he couldn't guess.

Ray stood up, picked up his bag, and went to change. Too bad fixing a guy's head wasn't as easy as rehabbing a bum leg or working out. He could do that, force his body to keep going, but his head, his thoughts, that was a whole different ballgame, another can of worms he didn't have the guts to open.

"Constable Fraser, I'm honored to meet you." Inspector Hathaway held out a hand to Ben and they shook vigorously, each returning the other's firm grip.

"Thank you, sir. I'm happy to be here."

Hathaway motioned for Ben to sit down in the chair across from his desk. When he'd settled in, Hathaway asked, "Would you like some tea, Constable? Coffee maybe? I know being in America, one does tend to pick up the habits."

"No, sir. I'm fine."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll have some." Hathaway pressed a button on his intercom. "Constable Josie, would you bring me some tea, please?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be in shortly. I have to finish the Gurdy report first. There's a deadline for the post."

Hathaway smiled and sat back. "Thanks, Josie, that'll be fine. Appreciate it." In his mid-fifties, the man had graying brown hair, a slim, fit build, and dark, deep-set eyes. Those same eyes turned their attention toward Ben with an intelligence and alertness that unnerved him even more. "A good officer, Josie. Always brews the tea just right and keeps me on my toes when it comes to signing all the forms in the right order. Couldn't do without her. You'll find that out soon enough."

"She seems very efficient."

"She defines efficient. She's been with me now, what, about five years, I think. That's quite a long time for this place. Or course, it helps that she was born here."

Ben went along with the flow of conversation, picking up the cue. "I take it there's a rather significant turnover rate in Yellowknife, sir?"

"Which is why I was so happy to see you ask to replace McClain, in the nick of time, too. The lad's leaving for greener pastures, not that Ottawa is that green if you ask me, but there you have it in nutshell. Young folk get married and the civilian spouses long for the bigger cities, shopping malls, fancy cars. I understand he has to put his wife and family first, but I hate losing him. He's a good man, McClain."

"Yes, he is."

Hathaway wagged a finger as if he just remembered something, but Ben wasn't fooled. This man was a lot more astute than he wanted people to realize. In many ways he reminded him of a mature Turnbull when he wasn't being harassed by Inspector Thatcher. "You and McClain worked together once before, I believe."

"Yes, sir."

"He tells me you saved his life in a robbery situation."

"He exaggerates, sir. I was just doing my duty."

"Possibly, but reading the reports of the affair, I tend to go with McClain's account. You acted above and beyond, and, thus, saved his life. I can understand why he's such a strong supporter of your posting here. In addition, I hear that he sold you his cabin and all that land around it. From what I understand it was quite the bargain. You certainly must have had confidence that your transfer would be approved."

Ben tugged at his ear, not really comfortable discussing the land sale and his personal business. "I was fortunate that he wanted to sell and he took my offer."

"But what if the transfer hadn't come through? What then?"

Ben hesitated, but decided it best to put all his cards on the table. "I was prepared to resign, sir."

"Resign? Really?"

"Yes, sir." Ben didn't add any details, no extras about bringing Ray north for protection and the need to start a new life. However, he thought it only fair to explain just a little. "Due to personal circumstances, I wanted to come home to Canada, sir, transfer or not."

Hathaway relaxed slightly and nodded, smiling as though Ben passed some sort of test. "Good, I like honesty, demand it in my men and women. A little national pride doesn't hurt, either."

"I strive at all times to be honest, sir."

"I'm aware of that. Your reputation precedes you, Constable Fraser. I'm well aware of how honest you are, even when it might cost you dearly."

Ben flushed, knowing that the Inspector referred to Gerrard's arrest and Ben's posting to Chicago as punishment. "I did what I thought was right."

"I know that. If it's worth anything, I thought it was wrong to censure you for turning in that bastard. He killed your father, a fellow Mountie, for goodness sakes. A man like Bob Fraser deserved better than to be murdered and then have his son banished for finding his killer. It was wrong and I, for one, am glad I can play a small part in correcting that misjudgment."

"You knew my father?"

"I knew of him. Met him a few times briefly at different functions over the years. He was quite the hero. I admired him a great deal. He and Buck Frobisher are legends. They broke the mold with that pair."

Ben swallowed hard, his gratification at the kind words for father and his partner bigger than his chest. "I appreciate you saying that, sir. I'm sure that sentiment wasn't the most popular one."

"Unfortunately, that's true. Politics, Constable, are the bane of our existence these days. Everything's politics. It's about who's who and who a man knows. It's not right, but I've seen it happen more times than I can count. Makes me rather bullish from time to time."

Ben braved the question. "Might that be why you've gotten this posting, sir?"

Instead of being offended, he laughed. "Figured you'd be as smart in person as you are on paper. Yes, I say how I see things. That doesn't always sit well with the higher ups. So be it. Actually, the irony is that I rather like it here compared to Toronto or Calgary. Took a bit of time to adjust, but now I prefer it.

"I'm glad you've acclimated, sir."

"I figure you'll settle in soon enough as well. You're a fine officer, Constable. I'm lucky to have you."

Once again, Ben's cheeks burned. Having someone in authority praise rather than chastise his performance made him uneasy. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best not to disappoint."

"You better. Prove Bullweather wrong and we'll both be happy."

Ben froze, not sure if he'd heard right, fearing that he had. "Bullweather, sir?"

"Superintendent Bullweather. He apparently signed your transfer under protest, buckling under the pressure of a higher authority. He called this morning to warn me against you. Nothing official, mind you, just enough to make me curious."

"How so?"

"Says you're a troublemaker. That I should keep my eye out." Ben remained silent, not sure how to respond. "So, what do you say to that, Constable Fraser? Are you a rabble-rouser or is the man talking out of his Stetson?"

Ben chose his words carefully. "I don't know what to say, sir. I've never considered myself a troublemaker, but others seem to differ."

"And along comes Chicago."

"Exactly."

"Still, you proved them wrong there. You became the Canadian Liaison officer for a very effective program. Got a call from Special Agent Crenshaw this morning singing your praises."

Ben stared in amazement. "Special Agent Crenshaw, sir?"

"You know him, of course."

"Well, yes, but —"

"He says you were invaluable on a number of operations. Wanted to let me know that I was getting an excellent officer." Hathaway paused and then added, "It was odd, really. I don't usually get calls like that. Still, it's nice to know that the Americans can, on occasion, be polite enough to thank us when they borrow one of our best people." When Ben didn't say anything, Hathaway asked, "Are you all right, Constable? You look a little flummoxed, if you don't mind my saying so."

Ben recovered and put on his most passive face, what Ray called his Mountie face. "I'm just surprised, that's all, sir. I wasn't aware that Special Agent Crenshaw knew of the transfer yet."

"Oh, you know those American Federal Agents. They've got their dirty, little fingers in more pies than they can handle, even when it's not officially their business. He probably knew about it before you did. Makes you wonder what else they know."

Hathaway waved a hand, as if he stopped himself from thinking anymore about how well informed the Americans might be about Canadian business. "At any rate, I've been busy all this morning on the phone and with faxes, and it was all about you, Constable Fraser. Seems like everyone's got something to say about you, all good, too, except for Bullweather. Both your former CO, Inspector Thatcher, and a Lieutenant Welsh of the Chicago PD, wanted to commend your performance. You seem generally well liked and admired. That's always a good thing to see when I'm getting a new officer."

Moved by his colleagues' efforts to help him, Ben found it difficult to speak. Still, he cleared his throat and tried. "I'll endeavor to live up to their kind words, sir. As to Superintendent Bullweather, I'll prove him wrong, I assure you."

"I'm sure you will." Hathaway put his hands together and leaned forward, his voice a bit lower. "This doesn't leave this room, Constable, but I have to say this."

Filled with dread, Ben reluctantly prompted him to speak his mind. "What is it, sir?"

"I've known Joshua Bullweather for close to twenty-five years, all the way back to when he first started out as an Inspector. If he's got a bone to pick, an ax to grind with somebody, that person had better watch his back. Fellow officer or not, he's a man who's more spiteful than kind. I'll do my best to act as a buffer between you two, but if there's some reason that he's out for your hide, I'd appreciate knowing why I should put myself and my career in harm's way."

Ben hesitated. There was no way he could tell Hathaway the whole story, not the details. However, he'd learned from Ray and his father that sometimes one just had to take a chance, take that leap and go with his faith and his instinct. Hathaway seemed like a man to be trusted. "I served under him my first year out of the Depot, sir. When I left, we weren't on the best of terms."

Hathaway's eyes narrowed and darkened. "This was seventeen or eighteen years ago when you were just what, nineteen or twenty?"

"Yes, sir. I was naïve and rather green to the force. Superintendent Bullweather, he… well, that is to say, he took a special interest in me at the time."

"Special interest, huh?" He said the words bitterly, sharply, like they burned his tongue.

"Yes." Ben cleared his throat to continue, but couldn’t bring himself to meet Hathaway's intense gaze. "However, there were certain things that happened between us, private things I can't really talk about. Suffice it to say, he wasn't happy with me by the time I left." Ben's cheeks blazed red at even revealing just a small portion of the truth, just a small hint about what happened.

Hathaway sat back, his face pinched and unhappy. "If you don't mind my saying so, Constable, you're a very attractive man."

Ben's head jerked up in confusion. "Sir?"

"I'm just imagining what you might have looked like back then, young, green, handsome, the son of a legend. Bet you were eager to please, too. Good lord, you'd have been an easy target for someone so inclined, like shooting fish in a barrel."

Light-headed, Ben immediately knew Hathaway understood and commiserated with the situation. "It was many years ago. I've tried to put it behind me. However, should the Superintendent try to make an issue of it —"

Hathaway raised a hand to stop him. "Say no more. I get the picture, as disturbing as it is. I take it you never told anyone that he took advantage."

Ben heard the words took advantage and thought what an innocuous phrase to describe the horror that happened. Lungs tight, his heart racing, Ben forced himself to remain calm. "Who would I tell, sir? It was a different time, a different world." Ben touched the edge of his hat in his lap as he spoke softly. "It would have been difficult, nearly impossible, to tell anyone about what happened and expect any positive outcome. There were no witnesses, so it was his word against mine."

Hathaway nodded in agreement. "Back then it would've ruined your career, no doubt about it. However, legally, you can't take action now."

"I understand that. I don't plan to bring any charges or make any public accusations. However, I won't be victimized a second time, sir. You should know that if Superintendent Bullweather tries to discredit me, I will protect myself."

"As well you should."

Relieved, but still a little numb from the confession to a near stranger, Ben tested the waters. "I trust this is confidential, sir."

"Completely. Don't fret on that account." Hathaway took a long, deep breath, as if clearing his head of the nasty story he'd just heard. "I'm glad you told me, Constable. I appreciate your faith in me."

Ben hesitated and then explained, "My father told me once that one has to take a leap of faith from time to time, sir. That's what I've done here."

"And you won't ended up battered and flattened on the rocks, son. I assure you, your secret is safe with me. All I expect is for you to be the best officer you can be. Do that, and you're okay in my book."

"Thank you, sir."

"That said, I think we should talk about when you want to report and what your duties will be. I'd like you to replace Constable McClain after he leaves next Friday. It's tourist season, so you'll be working weekends. Will you have a problem with that?"

Ray would have a fit, but Ben just said, "No, sir."

"Good. Come the end of August or September, that will change. You'll get every other weekend off. Unfortunately, weekends are the times when we have the most disturbances downtown and need higher visibility. That said, what I'd like is for you to spend a few hours with McClain before then. He can give you a quick rundown on the basics, the procedures and protocols. It's really not that different than most postings. It'll probably be downright boring after the hubbub of Chicago. If you'd like, I can slot you in to do that tomorrow morning sometime."

"That'd be fine, sir. I look forward to it."

"Good. Be here at ten o'clock and he'll start the tour."

Hathaway stood up, putting his hand out again. "Welcome aboard, Constable. I think you'll be happy here."

Ben stood and shook the commander's hand again, just as Josie finally came in and delivered the tea. Hathaway smiled his appreciation. "Ah, just in time, Josie. Thank you kindly."

When Ben walked up to the rehab center's door, Ray stopped leaning against the building and picked up his gym bag. If he'd had a cigarette, he'd have tossed it, but he didn't smoke anymore, something he was seriously reconsidering. Ben went to take the bag and Ray shook his head, moving it out of reach. "Don't. I'll carry it. It's my leg that's messed up, not my arm."

"I just —"

"Don't. Let's just go home. We have to talk, but not here, not now."

Reluctantly, Ben nodded. "As you wish, Ray."

Later, inside the Jeep, Ray kept his eyes on the road, his mind going over the whole morning. Beside him, Ben tried to jumpstart the conversation. "How was your session?"

"Dandy." Surly or not, that's all he could muster, all he'd volunteered. Ray had no intention of hashing things out in the car. He wasn't ready, didn't have his head together or his ducks in a row. He had no idea how he was going to handle Ben, but he knew he didn't want to blow up, didn't want to get as pissed off as he'd been since he'd first found out about the whole Bullweather thing. He chewed on the end of his thumb and dodged the crazy downtown traffic, driving one-handed. Seemed like Canadian drivers were almost as bad as the guys in Chicago.

A few minutes later, Ben tried again. "Ray, I said I was sorry. Can't we just talk?"

"When we get to the cabin and I'm not playing demolition derby with the natives, then we'll talk. Right now, I'm working hard not to wreck this thing."

Ben gave up and remained silent, not even commenting on several near misses and sideswipes along the way. Once they were home, Ray got out of the Jeep and stormed inside, not even taking time to greet or pet Dief, who waited out front on the porch. Ben came in right behind him, talking to the wolf. "Yes, I know he's angry. No, now is not the time to say I told you so."

Ray threw the gym bag on the floor beside the bed and paced the room angrily before he snapped, "So, the wolf knew already? You told him, but not me?"

"He was there when the call came in, Ray."

"So was I, give or take, but you didn't tell me. Me, you lied to."

"Technically, it wasn't outright lying."

Ray squeezed his eyes shut, his head about to explode. "I asked you straight out what was wrong, and you lied about it. Don't stand there and say you didn't." He snapped his fingers a couple of times as he tried to remember the term from church years ago. "It was one of those whatchamacallits, lies of admission, where you don't lie lie, but you just don't tell a person the truth, either."

"I believe you mean lie of omission, Ray."

"What I fucking mean, Mr. Smarty-pants, is that I want to know why you pulled this shit and I want to know now."

Hat in hand, Ben hadn't moved since he came inside. He swallowed hard before he spoke. "Let me fix us some coffee and tea first. Then I'll try to explain."

Still fuming, Ray really wanted a couple of shots of whiskey instead, but knew coffee would have to do. "Okay, okay, I could do coffee. Make it strong, too."

While Ray paced a bit longer to work off a little steam, Ben busied himself with heating water and getting the cups and some plates out on the table. He also set out some chocolate doughnuts he somehow sneaked in from the Jeep. After a few minutes of silence and waiting for the water to boil, Ray sat down and took one of the doughnuts. "These a bribe?"

"One might construe them to be an inducement to accept my apology if one wished to do so, yes."

"Okay, just so we're clear." Ray took a big bite and wished the coffee would hurry up. "You buy these on the way back from Mountieland?"

"Yes, at the same bakery we used last night for the pie. Are they any good?"

"They're not bad." He finished the first one and reached for a second. Eating the sugar, knowing Ben had bought the pastries for him, calmed Ray down just a little. "So, how'd the job thing go? The new guy okay or what?"

"Inspector Hathaway seems to be a very intelligent and reasonable man. We had an excellent first meeting." Despite the positive words, Ben pinched the bridge of his nose, his face drawn and tired.

Ray licked the chocolate off his fingers and put the second doughnut back on his plate. Seeing Ben so torn up took the wind right out of his sails about the whole hiding the truth and lying business. "Look, I don’t want to fight, okay?"

Ben met his gaze. "Thank god, Ray. Neither do I. I should've told you, but as I said before, I was really quite pole-axed. I mean, after all these years, to hear that name again in reference to me, well, I didn't know quite how to react."

"Sucker punched ya, huh?"

"Absolutely." Ben sat down at the table while they waited for the water. "I'm more sorry than you can possibly imagine. It's just that old habits —"

"Die hard, I know. Been there, done that." Ray hesitated before he asked, "What'd you mean before when you said you couldn't handle dealing with my reactions on top of everything else? You saying I get too crazy to handle sometimes?"

"It's difficult to explain."

"Try."

"It's just that I was having a hard enough time processing the possibility of having that man intrude in my life again. I was afraid if I told you, your emotional outburst would, indeed, as you put it, be more than I could handle at that moment."

Ray wanted to be mad, really mad, but he couldn't be, not when Ben obviously thought he was so out of control that he couldn't trust him not to make this whole thing about him, Ray Kowalski, the guy at the center of the fucking universe. "I’m sorry."

"For what?"

"That you didn't think you could count on me to be there when you needed it."

"I didn't say that, Ray. I didn't mean that at all."

"Yeah, you did, not outright, but close enough. The thing is, you were right. If you'd told me this shit this morning when it first happened, I probably would've hit the roof instead of worrying about how this affects you. I'll work on doing better, that's all I can tell ya." Ray paused before he asked, "So, how does it make you feel, having this guy show up after all this time?"

"Worried, scared, mortified."

"Mortified as in Mort and dead bodies?"

"Mortified as in ashamed, humiliated, beyond embarrassed."

Ray heard the pain in his partner's voice, heard the echo of his own pain when he talked about his personal abuse. He reached out and took Ben's hand. "You've got nothing to be ashamed about, Ben. Isn't that what you're always telling me?"

"It's not the same, Ray."

"Sure it is. This guy took advantage."

"Took advantage?"

"Yeah, you know, took advantage, used your innocence and neediness against you."

Ben lifted his face and studied Ray a few moments. "That's the same phrase Inspector used, took advantage. It seems strange to put it like that, but in essence, it does fit the situation."

"Wait a minute, hold your horses. You told the new boss about Bullweather and what he did?"

"In a round about way, yes. Apparently, Bullweather did what Inspector Thatcher hinted he might. He called Hathaway this morning and told him I was a troublemaker."

"Son of a bitch needs a good kick in the head."

"Indeed, but I took a page out your book, Ray, and from my father's."

"What page is that?"

"About going with one's instinct and taking a leap of faith. I needed to trust Inspector Hathaway to understand the situation. I didn't tell him details, but I told him enough to know I wouldn't be victimized a second time by this pusillanimous bully."

Ray squeezed his hand, both surprised and glad that Ben finally told somebody in the force about what happened. Officially, it might not make a bit of difference, but he knew it'd do Ben a lot of good, get it off his chest just a little, something he should've done ages ago. "So, this Hathaway, he's a good guy, then?"

"First impression, he seems to be, yes."

"First impressions are usually good. You can go with first impressions most times."

"Which I did."

"Yeah. So, how did that feel to tell somebody about all that stuff that happened?"

Obviously disturbed by the question, Ben pulled his hand away and went to check the water. He stood there, arms crossed, staring and shaking his head. "A watched pot never boils."

Ben said it like he'd heard it a million times before, like he was just repeating an old familiar phrase. "Your grandmother say that?"

"Yes, quite often, in fact. She routinely called me to task for being so impatient."

"Smart lady."

"I remember this one time —"

"Ben, sit back down and answer the question, okay?"

Hesitating, Ben eventually returned to the table, his face a little pale, dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping. "It's difficult to explain."

"Try. It's just me here."

"And I appreciate that, but talking to Hathaway, that was different than confiding in my partner."

"How, other than the obvious, like he's not me kind of thing?"

"He's an officer, Ray. He apparently knows Joshua personally."

Ray sat forward, alarmed. "He's not an old buddy is he?"

"From what he said, I definitely got the impression that he's just the opposite. However, he's still part of the system. I took a chance."

"Yeah, you did. Think it was worth it?"

"That remains to be seen, Ray."

"Still, it must have felt pretty good to get that off your chest, just a little anyway."

"Actually, I thought I might faint."

Ray took Ben's hand and squeezed it. "But you didn't. That's what matters."

Ben squeezed back, a weak smile on his lips. "I just don't understand why it is that I still give that man so much power over my life. I hear his name and I feel quite ill even though it's been nearly two decades."

Ray leaned in, one elbow on the table, the fingers of his other hand still laced with Ben's. "You think it'll be any different for me twenty years from now when somebody says whatshisname's name?"

Ben's expression softened in understanding. "You mean Clooney?"

"Yeah, him."

"Well, it's not quite the same, Ray."

"Sure it is. I mean, you didn't ask to be hurt and treated like shit. Neither did I."

"But still, in the beginning, I did accept his advances."

"So what? You can't say no after that, you deserve to be hurt? You know better, Ben." Ray brought Ben's hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. They smelled like chocolate. "You sneak a doughnut before you picked me up?"

"A brownie, actually. I've discovered that stress tends to bring out my sweet tooth."

Ears perked up and Ray complained, "A brownie? How come you got a brownie and all I got were doughnuts?"

"I thought your preference would be for the doughnuts. I'm sorry."

Ray snorted lightly and then used his free hand to ruffle Ben's hair. "Yeah, well, you want to induce a guy, the more chocolate, the better."

"I'll have to remember that."

Ray stood up, moved around the table, and drew Ben to his feet. He cupped the back of his head, bringing Ben's face closer to his as he whispered, "There are other kind of bribes, too. Want to try out a few?"

"What about the coffee?"

"It'll still be there when you're through winning me over." To make his point, Ray went over and removed the pot from the burner. Then he came back and hugged Ben again.

Ben got with the program, his voice suddenly a lot huskier. "You want me to win you over, Ray?"

"Oh, yeah. Induce away."

Chuckling, Ben teased the hair at the back of Ray's neck with his fingers. "I think you mean seduce, Ray."

Ray kissed Ben, his mouth pressing softly at first and then much harder. He pulled back, suddenly hungry for so much more. He couldn't get enough of the man in his arms, the man who made him feel like a million bucks even on a bad day. "Tell you what. Let's go to bed and you can show me the difference."

Ben leaned in and licked his ear, his tongue wet and warm. Then he hesitated, pulling back just far enough to study Ray's face. "Are we okay now?"

"Oh, yeah, we're more than okay, we're good." Ray's dick went from zero to sixty in a couple of seconds, getting hard and achy in a good way. "Let's get even better. Get your clothes off."

Ben didn't hesitate, stripping off quickly. Ray could never get enough of watching Ben reveal that gorgeous body, the firm muscles, the perfect cock, the tight ass. Ray got so caught up in getting an eyeful that Ben had to remind him to join in. "Ray, would you like me to undress you?"

"You want to?"

"Very much so, yes."

Ray wobbled his head and held his arms out. "Knock yourself out, go to town. Nothing like a naked Mountie taking a guy's clothes off to turn up the heat."

Smiling, Ben kept his gaze locked with Ray's as he proceeded to get the job done, starting with the shirt. He guided Ray backwards to the bed, where Ray sat down. Ben dropped to his knees as he took off Ray's shoes and socks. Then he shoved Ray to lie back on the bed, so he could pull off his pants and underwear. As soon as Ray was nude, too, Ben pushed Ray's legs apart and kneeled between them. The whole time, Ray never looked away, watched as Ben focused entirely on him. He swallowed several times before he whispered, "You're so fucking hot, Ben."

"As are you, Ray." Ben leaned in and kissed him, capturing his mouth, forcing it open, his tongue wrestling with Ray's. Sweat slicked their skin as Ben moved his mouth from Ray's lips to his throat and then his nipples. Ray moaned and squirmed in pleasure as Ben worked all up and down his belly with that wonderful tongue and then shifted just enough to take Ray's dick in his mouth. Ray bucked up, but Ben's hands pushed his hips back down, sucking all that much harder. Heat rushed over his body as Ray's dick exploded, whipping his brain into a blind frenzy. Ray couldn't stop from jerking upward, his hands gripping Ben's head, his heart pounding as his lungs begged for air. Flashes went off just behind his eyelids as the spasms took over and the sparkling lights faded.

By the time Ray could open his eyes and see again, Ben had licked him clean and moved upward to settle beside him. Still breathless, Ray rasped, "Sweet Jesus, Ben, you're going to kill me."

"I assure you that wasn't my intention."

"God, I love your mouth."

"Thank you kindly." Ben kissed him briefly and then rested his head on Ray's chest. His words and warm breath tickled Ray's skin. "I love you, Ray. I love pleasing you."

"Same here. Which reminds me, give me a minute and I'll return the favor."

"No need."

"Fair's fair. Let me get my wind back first, though, or I might not make it."

Ben took Ray's hand and drew it to his dick, limp and a little sticky. "I've had my pleasure, too."

"Yeah? You do yourself while you were doing me?"

"I love seeing and hearing you come, Ray. Just the sound of your release is often enough to bring about my own."

"You get off on hearing me come?"

"That along with the knowledge that I brought about that event, well, it satisfies me."

"Wow. That's something."

"That's not to say that in the future, your touch wouldn’t be appreciated."

Ray pulled Ben into a tight hug, kissing his whiskery cheek and then his mouth. Ray hated to admit that he loved the faint taste of his own come after Ben went down on him like that. It made him horny all over again. "I'll give you a hand job when you're ready, you better believe it." Ben relaxed against Ray, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. Petting Ben's sweat-damp hair, Ray whispered, "It's okay, Ben. Sleep. Get some rest. You've earned it."

Ben answered with soft, little snores. Ray smiled, loving how Ben conked out just like he did after sex sometimes. You score, you come, and then sleep the best sleep ever, nothin' wrong with that. Ray sighed, relieved they'd ironed out their differences, and closed his eyes to join in with a little napping.

When he woke up, Ray lay curled on his side, his body covered with a light blanket, the mosquito netting draped down around the bed. Because of the wacky light deal, he had no idea what time it was. It could've been night for all he knew. It probably was, considering the cooler air in the cabin.

Ben sat at the table, dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans as he read the booklets on nutrition from Ray's gym bag. Still on his side, Ray buried his face in the pillow, not really wanting to get up yet. Ben noticed the movement. "Would you like some coffee? It's already made."

Ray mumbled into the pillow. "Yeah, yeah, coffee's good." He stayed put, the last traces of sleep lingering, his body still lazy. After a few seconds, he heard the clatter of cups and silverware on the table. "What time is it?"

"A little after eight. We slept quite a long time."

"Considering neither of us got much shuteye last night, that's probably a good thing."

"Likely, yes."

Drawn by the lure of fresh coffee, Ray finally gave in and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his underwear and pants from the nearby chair where Ben had folded them while he was sleeping and put them on. Chilled, he pulled on the flannel shirt, too. "Why's it so cold all of a sudden?"

"A cold front's moving through. With it comes rain and cooler temperatures."

Ray sat at the table and doctored his coffee with some sugar. He took a sip, but it was still too hot to drink. As he put down his mug, Ben sat down across from him. "Ray, I'm sorry."

Ray's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Thought we covered that. The fight's over."

"I'm not talking about that. This morning after your appointment with Dr. Egan, I was so engrossed with worry about my own predicament, that I obviously wasn't paying close enough attention. You said the tests were good and that he cleared you, yet I found this prescription and these booklets in your bag."

"What were you doing in my bag anyway?"

"I was going to wash and dry your swim trunks and towels for tomorrow's session. What did he say exactly?"

Ray rubbed his face with both hands to get rid of the final traces of sleep before he answered, "Just need to gain a few pounds and take some vitamins. Same old, same old."

"You're sure? There's nothing you're not telling me?"

Hearing the worry, Ray shook his head in reassurance. "It's nothing. I'm fine, Ben. Really. He gave me that stuff about nutrition so I'd eat right. The vitamins have extra iron. I go back in two weeks and he's going to check my blood again just to be sure."

Relieved, Ben finally let out a long breath. "Thank god."

"Yeah, I was kind of happy about it, too."

"You should've said something. We could've gotten your prescription filled while we were in town. Now the pharmacy's closed and we'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"So, I'll chew on a rusty nail or something. One day's not going to make that much difference."

"Even so —"

"Even so, drop it."

Ben stopped suddenly and then nodded. "You're right, of course. We had other things to consider at the time. I just feel a bit guilty that I was so distracted."

"It's okay. I was kind of distracted myself." Ray cleared his throat, figuring it was hard to get mad at Ben for keeping secrets if he didn't come clean, too. "There was one other thing Egan said, something I wasn't thrilled about."

"What?"

"He wants me see a shrink."

Ben's expression got darker. "Did he say why?"

"I'm not sure. Might have something to do with the flashback I had while I was sitting there. I tried to play it off, but Egan's pretty sharp. I think he saw it for what it was, not just your regular spaz time."

"You had a flashback? Do you know what triggered it?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I told him about your transfer and he asked me about being a cop. I was trying to explain why I couldn’t hack it anymore, about how we got together right after the, you know —"

"The attack by Clooney?"

"Yeah, that, and then bam, it hit me out of nowhere."

"Well, not out of nowhere, Ray. You still can't talk about what happened or even say the man's name."

"So what? You saying this flashback shit's going to keep happening until I can?"

"It's possible. I don’t know. I'm not a doctor. However, it seems likely."

Ray picked up his coffee and drank half before he found his voice again. "You know my physical therapist, Kate Murphy?"

"Yes."

"Her old man's a shrink. He's the one Egan recommended."

"That would be Sean Murphy?"

Ray glanced up and locked eyes with Ben. "You know the guy?"

"Only by reputation. Eddie mentioned him last night."

Suddenly suspicious, Ray snapped, "Eddie mentioned a shrink? You guys talking about me?"

Ben snorted and shook his head. "If you must know, we were talking about me, not you."

"You?"

"Yes. As you know, Eddie's got some background in social work here in the area and I asked if he knew of any good therapists in town. He mentioned Dr. Murphy as well as a Dr. Littlejohn. He said they're both very good and are willing to take on new cases."

Ray put down his cup and leaned in, his elbows on the table. "You still want to see somebody even though we're here, even though things are finally turning around and going good now?"

"Ray, I found working with Dr. Reese an enlightening experience. I feel I accomplished a lot in a relatively short period of time, but the work's not done. Just my reaction today should prove that. I should've told you immediately about Joshua, but I fell back on old, self-destructive behaviors." Ben rubbed a hand over his mouth and then turned his full attention back to Ray. "I just think I should finish what I started with Dr. Reese."

"You're still keeping your journal, right?"

"Yes, and it does help to write about the past, about my feelings and reactions to what's happening now. I even shock myself sometimes by how much anger and confusion I still seem to have about it. I really think I need to continue with some professional guidance to completely resolve some of these disturbing issues."

Ray couldn’t argue with that, not when Ben laid it all out like that. "Then you should do it."

"You're not angry?"

"Why should I be? If you think it'll help, then go for it."

"What about you? Are you going to take Dr. Egan's advice and see Dr. Murphy?"

Ray finished off his coffee, his mood suddenly a lot darker. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

"There's no pressure, Ray. You do what you're comfortable doing. However, I'll likely make an appointment with Dr. Littlejohn sometime in the next week or two, once we get settled."

"You don't have to take the Littlejohn guy. You can have Murphy. I don't care."

"I appreciate that, but if Dr. Egan recommended Murphy to you, I'd rather go to Dr. Littlejohn instead. From experience we know we probably shouldn't see the same counselor, that is, if you should decide to go."

"Sure, okay, that sounds okay." Wanting desperately to steer away from the subject of being a fruit cake, Ray added, "Talking about settling in, when do you start the new job?"

"Next Saturday."

"Damn. They've got you on weekends?"

"I fear tourist season has a downside."

Ray sighed heavily and shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, it makes sense, new guy, tourists coming out of the woodwork. They'll need a guy like you around to sort things out."

"I'm glad you're not upset."

Ray met his eyes and shook his head. "I'm just glad things are working out and you got the job." Ray paused before he asked, "You talk to Crenshaw yet?"

Ben got up and added more coffee to Ray's cup and tea to his own. "Crenshaw knew about the transfer before I called him from headquarters. Apparently, Lt. Welsh and Captain Turner contacted him, telling him about your resignation from the Chicago PD, both making suggestions for alternative ploys to protect Ray Vecchio while he's still undercover. Then Inspector Thatcher, along with Deputy Commissioner Meers, called the Assistant Director of the FBI to put pressure on him to allow you to withdraw from the assignment with no negative repercussions."

Impressed as hell, Ray shook his head in amazement. "People did all that?"

"They surely did, Ray. You're officially released from the assignment."

A little dazed by the whole thing, Ray asked, "You're saying it's official, I can get my real name back, my old life?"

Smiling, Ben nodded. "Your old name, your new life, yes. Crenshaw assured me that the documents are now in place and your identity as Stanley Raymond Kowalski instead of Raymond Vecchio has now been rectified in the appropriate records."

Still not quite sure about the whole thing, Ray needed to know the final part. "What about Vecchio? What's the cover story going to be now that I'm out of the game?"

Ben sipped his tea, looking seriously amused. "You're not going to believe this one, Ray. Whoever comes up with these scenarios is really quite imaginative, but they obviously don't know Ray Vecchio."

"What? Tell me."

Putting his cup down, Ben leaned in closer, like he was sharing a big inside joke. "Would you believe they're using the story that Ray's had some whirlwind romance, eloped, resigned, and then ran off with his new bride to run a bowling alley in Florida?"

"A bowling alley?"

"The romance and elopement, that's plausible, but a bowling alley? Not likely. Just the shirts alone would be enough to give Ray conniptions."

"Conniptions or not, it's better than a bullet in the head."

Ben sobered at the thought. "Indeed, Ray. I surely hope that nothing we've done has endangered him in anyway."

"If anybody did that, it was the Feds. They fucked up, not us."

"They certainly weren't very apt, that's true."

Ray closed his eyes and took in a deep, deep breath. "It's over, Ben. I can finally be me again."

"You've always been yourself with me, Ray."

Opening his eyes, Ray locked onto Ben's intent gaze. "Thanks. You want to celebrate?"

Ben cocked his head, not taking his eyes off Ray. "What did you have in mind?"

"How about I buy you some blubber and lichens or something just as weirdly Canadian at Mimi's while I introduce the real me?"

"Are you sure you're ready, Ray?"

"Yeah, it's about time."

"I agree."

"Then pitter patter, let's go get some mooseburgers or something."

The crowd at the restaurant had thinned to just a few couples finishing off their meals and waving for their checks. Ben and Ray walked in and Mimi greeted them right away with open arms, hugging Ben first and then Ray. "You just made it under the wire. Francine is closing up the kitchen any minute. Take a seat and I'll be right with you two, okay?"

Worried about working his friend even longer after a hard day, Ben glanced around at all the empty tables. "We didn't realize it was so near closing time. Perhaps we should come back tomorrow."

She pointed and wagged a finger as she shook her head. "Don't even think about it. Sit down before I have to get ugly."

Ray grinned, admiring her spunk. "I think we should do what the tough lady says, Ben."

"I agree."

They sat down at one of the tables by the windows near the front. As they settled in, Ray asked, "What do you want? It's on me tonight."

"Ray, you know Mimi never lets us pay for our meals."

"I know, but you still put money in the charity jar, right? Well, tonight it's my turn."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know, just like Mimi doesn't have to feed us for free. I just want to."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's my treat." Ray handed Ben the menu and then looked over his own. He wanted to celebrate, to make a big night of it now that he had his name back, but he was too wired to eat that much. "So, what are you having? Caribou steak, whale stew, seal guts, what?"

Ben chuckled and shook his head in amusement as he muttered, "Seal guts, indeed, Ray. Where do you come up with such ideas?"

Ray pursed his lips as he stared at his partner intently. "Tell me you've never eaten seal guts."

"Well, in an emergency situation, yes, but—"

"See, I don't even have to make this stuff up." Ray leaned in slightly, his voice a little softer. "I do listen, Ben. On stakeout or when we were sitting around and you were just yakking away, I might not have looked like I was listening, but I was, to every word."

"Surely not every word, Ray."

"Every word, Ben. I might not have been able to spell half of 'em, but I heard every damn word you were saying."

Ben's eyes locked with Ray's. "And I heard you as well, Ray."

"I know. You're like this human recorder or something, remembering every little detail whether I want you to or not." Before Ben protested, Ray shook his head and held up a hand. "It's not a bad thing. I'm just saying I know you hear me, that you're tuned in. I just want you to know that I'm listening, too, that's all."

Ben cocked his head, studying Ray a few moments before he asked, "I know you listen, Ray. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just think that sometimes you think I tune you out and so you don't bother to tell me what's bugging you."

"I thought I explained about —"

"I’m not talking about this morning. I'm talking about in general." Ray picked up the menu again, staring at the list, but seeing none of the words.

"I assure you, Ray, I'll make more of an effort to share in the future."

Not looking up, Ray nodded. "Okay, good. That's settled."

Mimi finished taking the cash from the last customers before she put two glasses of water in front of them. As she sat down, she said, "Okay, you've got five minutes to get your order in before I have to cook it myself, which you really don't want to happen. So, what's it going to be? I'll give you a hint, the meatloaf special's extra good tonight and we've still got some mashed potatoes left to go with it, green beans, too. I know it's not exotic, but people seem to like it."

Still not trusting the Canadian cuisine just yet, Ray asked, "What kind of meatloaf are we talking about here, moose, caribou, beaver, what?"

Mimi cackled and shook her head, eyes twinkling. "You're such a hoot, Ray. It's a mix of beef and venison. It's very mild compared to some of the stuff we do. I know you've got that tricky stomach problem, though, so if you don't want that, we've got one piece of baked chicken left."

Ben piped up first. "I'll have the meatloaf special with some tea. Ray?"

"Think I'll stick with the chicken with the potatoes and green beans. Oh, and bring me a soda, Sprite if you've got it."

Mimi stood up, all smiles. "Coming up. I'll be back in no time. Then we'll chat."

As soon as she left, Ray put down the menu and took a drink. He stared out the window, kind of missing the clean look of fresh snowfall. Who knew he'd miss winter, get hooked on the whole Freezerland thing? It was about as likely as him shacking up with a gay Mountie. He cracked himself as he snorted, "Go figure."

"Ray?"

"I mean, think about it, you and me, living here, what are the odds, huh?"

"Fairly long odds, I'd say."

"Yeah, me, too, but here we are, you and me and the wolf, one big happy family."

Ben's face grew more serious. "Are you glad you took the chance, Ray?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all. You've given up so much to be here. Is it worth it?"

Ray couldn't believe it, couldn't believe he'd ask such a dumb thing, not after all they'd been through. "You really have to ask?"

"I wish I didn't have to, Ray, but sometimes —"

"You get wobbly, I know."

"Wobbly?"

"Yeah, wobbly, like insecure, unsteady. I mean, most times you're a rock, but when it comes to us, you're wobbly as hell. You just never really seem to get that I want to be here, that you're it for me, the one and only." Ray shook his head again, not sure what else to do. "I don't know how many other ways to say it."

"It's not you, Ray. It's me. I know that. It's just the idea of someone like you choosing to give up your life, your family, even your country, to come be with me, well, it's often more than I can take in."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. It's a miracle I don't want to question, but find myself doing so nonetheless."

"Well, quit it. I'm here, I'm staying, get used to it."

Ben reached over, taking Ray's hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you."

"Same here. It works both ways. You're my miracle, too, the guy who stuck with me through thick and then. It hasn't been easy, but I think we've got something good here, something that can really work. We just have to be careful not to blow it, to fuck it up by being so wobbly."

"I'll try harder."

"Yeah, me, too."

Mimi returned with the plates, sitting them down along with a basket of fresh yeast rolls. "You guys okay? You look a little serious."

Ray smiled wider. "We're fine, we're better than fine." He motioned to the free chair. "Have a seat. We've got something to tell you."

By the time they finished with their edited version of what happened, Mimi sat round-eyed in amazement. "So, you're really Ray Kowalski, not Ray Vecchio, but you can't tell me any of the details about why that is?"

Ray shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry."

"But you're not a cop anymore?"

"Nope, I quit. Thought I'd head north, see the sights, maybe buy a big hat."

Mimi sat back, studying Ray a few extra moments. "You know, I knew you didn't look Italian. Now I know why."

Ray liked how she took to the new name, like it was no big deal, like he hadn't been lying to her and everybody else since he'd met them. "Yeah, I never could figure why I was tapped for the assignment." He glanced over at Ben and smiled. "But I'm glad I was or I'd never have met Ben. Best thing that ever happened."

"I feel the same way, Ray."

Mimi interrupted. "Okay, I’m confused. How did Ben come into this whole thing? How did you two meet?"

Ben took up the challenge. "Well, as you know, I went to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, but chose to stay —"

Ray signaled Ben to speed up. "Fast forward. Everybody knows that part."

Ben nodded and obliged. "Well, truth be told, we really can't tell you how we met, other than to say that I was working with the first Ray Vecchio, before my Ray took his place."

Mimi looked back and forth as they spoke and then asked, "Chicago must be a very weird place if they substitute one guy for another. Vecchio, Kowalski? How likely is it that they even look alike." She turned to Ray. "Did you two look alike?"

"Not even close."

"So?"

Ray held up a hand. "I know, I know, a lot of questions we can't answer. We've probably told you more than we should, but I, that is we, thought you deserved to know the truth since we're going to be living here."

Surprised, Mimi's eyes brightened. "What? You're moving here for good?"

Ben answered, "Yes, my transfer came through this morning. We're making this our home."

Unable to contain herself, she stood up and came around the table, hugging each man and giving quick kisses. "I'm so happy for you both."

Ray couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks. We're happy, too."

Still standing, Mimi put a hand on the shoulder of each man. "We have to celebrate, throw a party, a real blowout."

Ben patted her hand. "There's no need on our account, Mimi."

"Sure there is. What are you doing this coming Monday?"

Ray answered first. "Nothing that we know of. Why?"

"Because I'm throwing a farewell party for Alan and his family. We'll make it a double celebration. They're leaving, you're staying, two for one. It'll be perfect." She squeezed the men's shoulders. "Please say you'll be there. We'll have a picnic or a barbeque or something. I'll invite Chris and Eddie. Chris loves to grill out, and he's good at it, too. Might even bring out the Twister. It'll be great. So, can you come?"

Ray met Ben's eyes and knew the answer without having to ask. "Sure, Mimi, we'll be there."

It rained all the way home and when they got to the cabin, a pissed off Dief waited under the porch. As they made a dash for the door, the wolf followed them inside, yipping his complaints as he shook rainwater all over the place. Ray laughed as he snatched up a towel. He knelt to dry the wolf off as Ben quickly got a fire started. "Guess we need to include a doggie door or something in the renovation plans, huh?"

"I'm afraid that might take up half the door, Ray, but it's certainly something to consider. Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure, coffee sounds good." A grateful wolf licked his face and Ray laughed. "Yeah, I know, buddy. It sucks to be cold and wet."

After Ray folded and hung up the damp towel, he went to sit down on the couch in front of the fire. The heat took the chill off, but also made him sleepy. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. "This is nice."

"What?"

"This, the fire, the rain, being here. It feels right."

"Yes, I know. I agree."

A few minutes later, Ben joined him on the sofa. A hand tugged him sideways and Ray lay with his head in Ben's lap. Fingers combed through his hair, gently, like a lullaby without words. It was as close to content as Ray could remember in a very long time. "Feels good. I could get used to this."

Ben sighed, his fingers still teasing, his voice low. "I surely hope that's the case."

Just something in the way he said it didn't sound right, sounded like he was worried. "What? What's going on inside that weird head of yours?"

"It's nothing."

The lazy good feeling of a few moments ago disappeared and Ray opened his eyes. "You're thinking too much again, right?"

"One can hardly think too much, Ray. Studies show that we only use a small portion of our intellectual capacity. So, I hardly —"

"Quit it. You know that's not what I'm talking about. You're thinking about everything that can go wrong. So spill, what's top of your list?"

Fingers still worked through Ray's hair as Ben stared into the fire, not meeting Ray's gaze. "I'm not sure you've actually considered the complete ramifications of our move yet. You've only spent two weeks here in winter. That's quite different from surviving the entire, what's often a bitterly cold, season, not to mention the lack of sunlight through nearly half the year. I just fear —"

"Just stop already. Jeez, I get it." Frustrated, Ray sat up, once again amazed at Ben's capacity for insecurity when it came to the future. Hell, Ben Fraser made him feel like a fucking amateur when it came to the whole doubting game. He scrubbed his cheeks with both hands and then turned sideways to face off. "Look, I know it's going to be tough. I hate the cold, I hate the dark."

"I know —"

"Let me finish."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I do hate that shit, but I love you. I figure that trumps the lousy weather any day."

Ben cocked his head as he studied him an extra second. "I love you, too, Ray, but that's not the issue."

"Then what is?"

"I'm just afraid that such an extreme change of living conditions will, at some later point, make you question the advisability of your move here, that's all."

"Here, there, I don't fucking care where, Ben. Don't you get that? Every place we go, there's going to be something that's going to be hard to deal with. I mean, sure, this place is a bitch in winter. So the fuck what? Chicago ain't no picnic sometimes. Besides, at least here we get the bonus of having our own place, our own land, some privacy for a change. It's a chance to start over."

"I understand that, but —"

"And I'm not saying it's not going to be hard, because it is. I get that. I'm going to miss people like Frannie and Welsh, but there are good people here, too. To be honest, I'll probably end up missing being a cop, too. I mean, I've done it so long, it's going to be weird not working the job, but you know what?"

"What?"

"It's worth it."

"That's my worry, Ray. What if in the end, you discover that it's not worth it?"

"You're a real fuddyduddy sometimes, a real Doubting Thomas, you know that, right?"

"So you've said."

Ray scooted over and hooked the back of Ben's neck. "Plan to keep saying it, too, as long as you act like one." He kissed Ben and drew back. "What happened to that whole, don't go buying trouble thing you were talking about before?"

Running the back of his hand up the side of Ray's face before he fingered his lower lip with his index finger, Ben shook his head. "I just worry."

Ray sucked the finger into his mouth, teased it with his tongue and heard the hitch of breathing. He let the finger go, leaning his forehead against Ben's as he whispered. "Stop thinking so much, Ben. Just go with it."

"I'll try."

"Promise?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, I either get some coffee or go to bed. Which is it?" Without saying a word, Ben stood up and went to move the coffeepot off the burner. Ray grinned. "Guess we know your vote."

Later that night, Ray lay on his side listening to the rain and watching Ben sleep. It always amazed Ray how Ben slept so soundly, so deeply. Talk about the proverbial knot on a log, the guy who could sleep the sleep of the dead and fool even Mort. Ray shuddered, not wanting to think about that, think about Ben ever really kicking off and leaving him alone. Almost as if by magic, Ben's lids fluttered and then opened. "Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

Ben laughed softly and turned on his side to face Ray. "Not too much, I hope."

"Naw, not me. That's your game, not mine."

Ben's grin faded. "What is it, really?"

Despite the warmth from the fire, Ray pulled his blanket higher and scooted in closer to Ben. His partner's body heat kept him toastier than any quilt could. Ben wrapped him in an embrace and kissed the top of his head. "Ray, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just letting it all sink in."

"Ah."

Ray pinched a nipple and Ben yelped. "I'll give you something to ah about."

Ben chuckled and squeezed him. "I believe you already have, several times, in fact."

Ray remembered the quick release from a few hours ago and grinned, proud of himself. "Yeah, I sort of have. Guess the old sex drive is back on track, back in the groove, wide awake and making up for lost time, huh?"

Kissing him again, Ben persisted. "So it would seem, for which I'm forever grateful. That said, why are you still awake and fretting?"

"I'm not fretting, I don't fret. You're the one who frets, not me."

"I believe this is one of those kettle-pot issues we've talked about, Ray."

Giving in, Ray had to smile in agreement. "Yeah, maybe a little. Just so we don't fret at the same time, we'll do okay."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"I was just thinking about all the stuff I need to do, go to the bank and transfer some money, make a decision about the whole disability thing, get that Garvey kid out here to put in a can and a shower, you know, just stuff."

"You don't have to do all that alone, Ray. I can help with the bank and making arrangements for the renovations."

"Yeah, I know. I was just thinking about it, that's all. How long do you think the thing with Alan's going to take tomorrow, a couple of hours?"

"At least that. He's going to walk me through his usual routine and show me some of the post protocols as an orientation to my new duties."

"Sounds like a blast."

Ben kissed the top of his head again. "I'd rather be with you."

"Yeah, me, too. Anyway, I figure I'll do the PT and then go to the bank, see what I need to do to get the financial stuff done. Then I want to talk to Cal, see if he's interested in me working there or not. If not, that's okay, too. I just need to know, you know?"

"I do, yes." After a pause, Ben asked, "And the disability, have you decided about that?"

"Still not sure, but I'm leaning a little closer to taking it. I mean, we could use the money."

"Ray, I don't want you to be pressured in any way to take disability if you feel that you shouldn't. We can make do on my salary and your savings."

"I know, but the health insurance is the big thing. If I straight out resign, the insurance premium I'll be stuck with is going to be murder. With disability, I'm still covered without as much out-of-pocket. The way things are going, what with the leg and stuff, I might need to have that until something else comes along."

"Something else?"

"Yeah, well, I think I remember you saying something about you claiming me as your domestic partner or something like that."

"I did, yes, but the preexisting conditions clause might be a problem."

Ray swallowed hard and drew up enough courage to ask, "What if I become a full-fledged citizen, what then? Would that help with the preexisting stuff? Wouldn't they have to cover me then?"

Against his ear, Ray heard Ben's heart race. "What are you saying, Ray?"

"What's it sound like?"

"It sounds like you're saying you want to become a Canadian."

Ray lifted his head enough to lock gazes with Ben. "You okay with that, me getting the big hat and licking electrical sockets and all?"

Ben snorted and shook his head in amusement at the reference to Ray's take on the ten steps to becoming a Canadian. "No licking of electrical sockets, but I'm more than okay with the rest of that plan, Ray. However, as you know, there's quite a waiting period before that happens, many forms to fill out. The process isn't easy and takes time."

"I know, but I know a guy who does forms like a piece of cake. You think he might help me out?"

Taking a deep breath, Ben smiled and leaned in closer, his mouth only inches away as he whispered, "Oh, I think he might be persuaded."

Ray woke the next morning to find Ben already up, bare-chested and ironing the new blue uniform shirt they'd bought the day before. Ray admired the view, watching as Ben carefully took the old-fashioned iron off the stove and pressed it up and down over the shirt which was stretched out on a towel on the table. Ray closed his eyes and yawned, working hard to delay getting up. He'd never been a morning person. Moving to Canada didn't change that.

Ben glanced over and smiled. "Good morning, Ray."

"Morning. Guess if you're going to be doing that every day, we should invest in getting an ironing board or something, huh?"

"That's not necessary. This does quite adequately for now."

"Up to you. You want to iron on the eating table, that's fine by me. My mum, though, she always said a good ironing table was worth its weight in gold."

"How so?"

"She had a bad back, but she took in laundry sometimes to make ends meet. The board, it kept her from hurting after hours of standing and doing other people's shirts. I figure you want a board, we can get a board."

"Point well taken. We'll see."

Ray woke up enough to watch Ben work on the shirt, Ben's tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard to get it just right. Ray loved that look, that hunkered down concentration that Ben had even for simple things like ironing. He smiled and Ben looked up, catching the grin. "What?"

"You're such a freak."

"What'd I do this time?"

"What'd a wrinkle ever do to you?"

Ben chuckled and shrugged as he continued to iron a sleeve. "I've always been a stickler for the uniform."

"I know. Damn nice uniform, too."

"Yes, it is. As you know, I prefer the red, but this will do nicely since the blue seems to be the favored choice for this posting during summer." The reverence in the tone got Ray's attention. It was one more tick on the list of things that Ray knew about Ben, that he loved his job, loved being a Mountie. Of course, Ray always knew that deep down, but just watching Ben fuss over the details like that, just confirmed it over again.

Ray grabbed a pillow from Ben's side of the bed and put it on top of his own, stacking them so he could sit up a little higher without actually getting out of bed. "I'm glad you got the transfer. It would've sucked if you couldn't be a Mountie anymore because of me."

Ben stopped and turned, the iron still in his hand. "Ray, I'm glad it came through as well, but if it hadn't, if I'd had to resign, you wouldn't have been to blame."

"Yeah, I know, but it would've been partly because of me."

"Not really."

"Ben, I'm just trying to say —"

"I know what you're tying to say, but it's not necessary. If the force had seen fit to keep me in exile instead of welcoming me back, that would have little to do with you, Ray. I love the force, but I love you more. Never doubt that."

"I don't."

"Good." Ben turned back to his chore. He spoke quietly with his back to Ray. "You should wash and get dressed. It's nearly nine. We need to leave soon or risk being tardy. You can drop me off at headquarters and then go on to your therapy."

"What about a ride home? You going to call me?"

"I thought I'd let Alan drive me home."

Ray dropped his head back against the pillow, fighting down the rush of jealousy. He knew better, knew they were just friends. He couldn't let this shit keep fucking up his head. Still, just saying the words took real effort. "Sounds good."

Ben paused. "You're sure?"

"Sure. Why not? You're just friends, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Then it's settled. You take the tour, then your boy Alan can drop you back home. Me, I don't know how long it'll take to do all the stuff I need to do after PT. Think I'll go to the bank first."

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you just saying that you're okay with this or are you still harboring the jealousy you've expressed toward Alan?"

Fuck. Ben was like a damn monkey with a stick, poke, poke, poke. "Don’t push it, okay? I'm doing the best I can here."

"Understood."

Ray sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. "I'm sorry. It's just me. I'm a grouch in the morning, you know that."

"I do."

"You didn't have to agree so quick."

"Truth is truth, Ray. No reason to deny it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, pick on the grumpy guy."

Ben finished with the shirt, whipped it up and off the table. He put it on and buttoned up. As good as Ben looked in red, he looked just as good, if not better, in the blue. Then he had to go spoil the whole effect by talking. "You know, Ray, there's no reason why you and Alan can't be friends."

Ray grabbed a pillow and shoved his face into it, groaning in frustration. "Don't push it, okay?"

"Seriously, Ray. Alan has mentioned that he's wanted to make overtures of friendship, but that you scare him."

Frowning, Ray put the pillow down. "Scare him?"

"He says you glare at him. I've tried to assure him that he's imagining it, that you're really quite friendly once one gets past the posturing. However, he's really quite adamant that you don't like him."

"Ben, the guy's a cop. He knows a glare when he sees one."

"Ray, please, be serious."

Ray shrugged, knowing he sounded like a real jerk, but saying it anyway. "Look, so I gave him a couple of evil eyes. It's not like the guy doesn't lick his chops every time I'm not around. I just want to make sure he knows what's what, that you're mine, that's all."

Ben shook his head in amazement. "Sometimes you're an idiot, Ray."

"Yeah, I know."

Coming over to the bed, Ben sat down beside him, his hand resting on Ray's bare leg. "We've been through this."

"I know."

"So why do you persist in —"

"I'm trying, Ben, that's all I can do."

Nodding, Ben ruffled Ray's hair. "With that spirit in mind, I'd like you to do me a favor, Ray."

Uneasy, Ray knew what he was going to say before he said it. "You want me to make up with McClain, right?"

"Yes. He's tried very hard to be a good friend to me when very few others in the force would be. He's also responsible for selling us the land when it would've been much more financially advantageous to sell it to someone else. He's not a bad person, Ray, and I like him as a friend. I'd hate for him to leave town thinking badly about you."

"I suck."

"Ray —"

"No, I do. I mean, I know what you're saying. McClain's done nothing but try to help. It doesn't matter that he's got feelings for you, because he's married and he'd never act on them."

"And, more importantly, I'd never act on them."

Ray looked up and met Ben's gaze, nodding as he continued to talk. "I know that, Ben, and if you want me to make up with the guy, I will."

"Thank you, Ray. I appreciate that."

"I'll do it at the going away party, okay?"

"That'll do nicely."

"Good, that's settled. Ray gets to play nice on Monday." Ray lifted his arm and sniffed his armpit, making a face. "Meanwhile, I need to get my act together and get cleaned up. I stink."

Ben kissed his cheek, but instead of telling him he didn't reek like he usually did, he simply stood up and made an offer to help. "I'll heat some more water."

"You're supposed to say you like the way I smell."

As he added more water to the bucket already heating on the stove, Ben grinned. "Well, you are rather more pungent than usual, Ray. A nice morning scrub couldn't hurt."

Ray sneaked another quick whiff and couldn't really get mad. If he smelled that rank to himself, Ben must be having fits and was just being polite. "Pungent, huh?"

"Aromatic, perhaps?"

"I reek, admit it."

"Even so, it can soon be remedied."

"It must be the lemon stuff gone off or something. I don't usually smell this bad."

Ben handed Ray his battery operated razor. "And a shave wouldn't go amiss, either."

Rubbing his whiskery cheeks, Ray frowned. "You saying I need a shave, too?"

"I love your beard, Ray, but beyond a certain point, it's a bit of a hazard."

Noting the redness along Ben's throat and the puffiness around his mouth, Ray grinned. "Sorry. Beard burn's a drag."

Ben didn't complain, just added, "We've got about twenty minutes before we have to leave."

Ray got the message and hopped to it, getting up and stepping to the sink. "Right, right, twenty minutes. If we're late, what, we turn into white rabbits or something?"

"White rabbits, Ray?"

"Yeah, you know, ALICE IN WONDERLAND, the white rabbit going on and on about being late for a date or something, that white rabbit."

Ben's eyes widened just a little. "You've read ALICE IN WONDERLAND?"

As Ray fished around for a small mirror under the sink so he could shave, he shook his head. "Naw, but I saw the cartoon."

"Cartoon? They did an animated version?"

"You bet. It's a Disney cartoon classic. Anyway, the point being, you don't like to be late. I get that. Now, stop yapping and get me some coffee. If we're going to make it, I'm going to need a little caffeine kick to get me going."

"Coffee it is." Ben gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he whispered, "Cartoon classic, indeed."

Ray finished physical therapy that morning without a hitch, not a single spazzed out moment, well, only a couple before he really got warmed up. The improved focus surprised the hell out of Murphy, too, so much so, that she slapped him on the back and gave him a gold star for his efforts. He had to admit, the leg felt better and didn't hurt nearly as much. Plus, he could tell it was stronger. Hell, he was stronger. Working out sure made a difference. Not to mention he got to use the shower at the rehab center. Hot water, a jet stream with some serious pressure, it was all good. It made him feel like a million bucks, like a new man, well, mostly if nobody looked too close.

After the session, he went to the bank, filled out a kazillion papers, and gave enough personal information to choke a goat. After all that, he got a checking and savings account opened up in his name so that he could transfer funds from America, quick as a wink, the magic of the computer age. He'd pick up the debit card and printed checks Monday morning. They could've mailed them, but he still hadn't figured out the exact address just yet. He'd do that later when he had Fraser along to prove he lived where he said he lived. The post office was bound to believe a Mountie more than a Yank anyway. Besides, he was sick of forms and answering questions, so he decided to go see Cal and introduce the real Ray.

Ray walked into the shop and saw Randy waiting on some customers and Cal sorting through the photo packages at the far end of the counter. The older man smiled when he saw him and waved a hand. "Morning, Ray. Take any great pictures yet?"

"Not yet. Sorry. I haven't even had a chance to shoot a roll yet, but I will, don't worry." Ray paused, chewing on his thumb, before he asked, "Hey, you got a minute?"

Cal motioned for Ray to follow him. "Sure. Come on back. You want tea or coffee?"

Ray came around behind the counter and went to the backroom. "You got both?"

"Me, I'm a tea man, but Randy, he likes coffee. The boy's half-American, seems like sometimes. Don't know where he gets it, eh."

"Television probably. Besides, there's nothing wrong with a good cup of joe."

"Yeah, that from an American. I'm shocked." Cal handed Ray a mug from a rack on the wall and picked up his own from the table. Cal poured himself some ready-brewed tea and sat down while Ray got his own drink. "So, I hear you and the Constable are going to be staying in town. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Mimi tell you that?"

"Was it a secret?"

"No, but I kind of wanted to tell you myself." Ray sat down across from Cal, holding the cup with both hands, sipping a few times before he asked, "So, did Mimi tell you anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like my name's not Vecchio."

"Huh? What are you talking about, your name's not Vecchio? Since when?"

"Since I was born it's been Ray Kowalski and it's a long story, most of which I can't tell you because of security reasons."

"Security? Fuck."

"Your kids know you cuss like that?"

Cal leaned in closer, his face solemn. "Ray, be serious. Tell me what's going on."

So he told him, pretty much the same story he told Mimi and planned to tell Chris and Eddie when he got the chance. When he'd finished, Cal sat back, shaking his head and looking at Ray like he was seeing him for the first time. In a way, maybe he was, maybe for the first time Ray was letting his friend take a good long look. "So, anyway, I wanted you to know that I'm sorry I had to lie, but —"

"You didn't have any choice."

"Right."

Cal got up and warmed his tea, sitting down again before he spoke. "Well, this explains a lot."

"What?"

"Well, when I offered to send your pictures in to be published, you wouldn't let me. You didn't want them submitted under Vecchio."

"Yeah. I couldn’t take the chance that the wrong people might see them and wonder what the hell Vecchio was doing up in Canada taking pictures."

Cal drank some of his tea, nodding to himself as he processed all the information. "I appreciate you telling me."

"I figured it was only right. You've been really good to us. I appreciate that."

"Not a problem." After a few more moments, Cal asked, "So, you're not a cop anymore, either, huh?"

"No. I resigned. Might take disability. Haven't decided yet."

"Disability? For the leg?"

"No, not exactly. The leg's going to heal."

"So disability for what?"

Ray ran a hand through his hair, wondering how much to tell, how to talk about something so personal with anyone but Ben. But he trusted Cal, needed to talk the whole thing out with somebody who might have a different perspective. "I've got this post trauma deal." He glanced up to see Cal's eyes widen and Ray added, "I'm okay, really. I mean, most days I'm fine, better than fine, but being a cop, well, that's not something you can do when you don't have your head screwed on tight all the time, you know? One slip and it's curtains."

"I can imagine, yeah."

"So, anyway, I might qualify, which would mean insurance benefits. Both my lieutenant and captain think it's a good idea, but I'm not sure. I mean, I can work, just not as a cop, not when it means I might get somebody killed."

"Or yourself killed."

"Yeah, that, too."

"What's Fraser think?"

Ray finished off his coffee and sat back, his arms crossed. Talking about all this stirred things up, made him think about the Jones boy and the kid he shot. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced away the other thoughts, the thoughts of being hurt and cut up. Throat tight, he spoke quietly. "He wants me to decide."

"But what does he really think?"

"He thinks I should take it." Cal touched his arm, but Ray jerked away, unprepared for the unexpected contact. "Sorry. I'm just a little jumpy sometimes."

"I can see that. No reason to be, not with me. I had a brother who had PTSD. It's a tough thing. Nothing to be ashamed of. If you qualify for disability because of something that happened on the job, you should take it. Mental pain's as bad as physical, sometimes worse. I mean, that's what disability's for, to help out, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." Ray leaned in, his elbows on the table, his shoulders hunched. "So your brother had it, too, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You mind talking about it? I mean, I know it's none of my business, but —"

"It's okay. It happened a long time ago and I don’t think he'd mind. Hell, he'd tell you himself if he were here." Cal wet his lower lip and took a deep breath, like what he was going to tell something that was too heavy to say out loud. "Hal was just eighteen, five years younger than me, full of fire and spunk. He just wanted to see the world, but ran out of money before he got to see much. So, he was in New York City, working to make ends meet. I wish he'd called me. I would've sent him some money, but he didn't. Anyway, he got mugged, beat up pretty badly, and left for dead in an alley. He never told me the details, but when they called me from the hospital, he was in really bad shape. Wouldn't talk, wouldn't eat, wouldn't do much of anything. For months he was nearly catatonic, or at least that's what they called it. When he finally did start talking, he told me he didn't really remember what happened. Later, towards the end, he told me that was a lie, that he did remember all along, but that he just couldn't talk about it."

Kind of dizzy, kind of like watching a plane about to crash and not being able to look away, Ray asked, "What really happened to him in New York?"

Cal met his eyes, not wavering at all. "He never said. He took that secret to his grave, but I kind of think it was more than just a mugging."

Ray sat back, his heart racing out of his chest, his head spinning. "His grave?"

"Yeah, he shot himself when he was twenty-five. Of course, he tried to drink himself to death first. After he sobered up, I really thought he had a handle on it. I was wrong. I should've seen something was wrong, made him go to a doctor or something."

"Jesus, Cal, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No reason you should. The thing is, they said he had PTSD, that if he'd been treated, he might not have ended up like that." Cal stopped and eyed Ray carefully. "I'm telling you this for a reason, Ray."

"And what's that?"

"I loved my brother, but it took me a lot of years to understand that I could only do so much. The rest was up to him."

Hand over his mouth, Ray blinked back a few tears. No fucking way was he going to start bawling in front of his friend. He cleared his throat. "I didn't come here to talk about all this."

"I know. I just thought you should get where I'm coming from if I end up giving you advice sometimes, that's all. I mean, you remind me of him a little bit, not physically, mind you, but just when you get that look you get sometimes."

Ray got goose bumps, afraid of what Cal might say. "Look?"

"Yeah, that look. It's in the eyes, the way you stare off sometimes, like you're only seeing the past, seeing something really dark and painful. Hal used to do that when he came back after the attack. Don't take this the wrong way, Ray, but I worry."

"You don't need to. I'm okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I've got Ben, a second chance. So, I can't be a cop anymore, so what? There are worse things."

"That said, how are you going to handle Fraser still being a cop when you can't be?"

"Good question. Don't know for sure. Guess I'll find out soon enough though. He starts to work next Saturday." Ray stood up and got more coffee. He didn't sit back down, but stood with his back to Cal as he checked out all the pictures around the workroom. No way did he want to keep talking about all this shit. Time to move on. "You take these?"

"Yeah, most of them. You're changing the subject."

Reluctantly, Ray turned. "Look, I know you mean well and I'm sorry about your brother, but I'm not him. I'm okay. I'm not going to end up being a drunk or eating my gun."

"I hope not."

"I'm fine, or I will be. A little fresh air, some clean living, modern plumbing in the cabin, and I'll be fine."

Cal's expression lightened, like he realized he'd said enough, time to switch to lighter subjects. "Plumbing, huh? You two going to spruce the place up?"

"Oh, yeah. Fraser's already got plans drawn up so that we can get it done before winter. It'll double the space and I'll get a can and a shower. That's the main thing. No slogging to the outhouse, freezing my nuts off to pee."

Cal chuckled with a knowing nod. "God, I remember those days. Back when I was kid before we moved into town, we had a place like that. Damn, I almost ended up with no family."

"How's that?"

"About froze my dick off, that's how."

Ray winced. "Ouch."

"Tell me about it. My poor Angie would've been childless."

"And she might not even have been your Angie, you being dickless and all."

Call laughed, shrugged, and made a toast with his tea. "Thank god for indoor toilets, eh?"

Raising his own mug, Ray agreed. "Oh, yeah, I hear ya."

After a few moments, Ray sat back down. "Look, Cal, that's not all I wanted to say."

"Yeah?"

Ray rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to beg or sound too pitiful. "Now that I'm not a cop and I'm living up here in Freezerland —"

"Freezerland? That's what you call it?"

"Yeah, sort of. Sorry."

"That's okay. It kind of fits, especially come January."

"Anyway, I was wondering if you might need somebody to, you know, work around the shop. If not now, maybe when Randy goes back to school. What do you think?"

Cal studied him a long moment, making Ray sweat a little before he finally said, "You know, I've been thinking about hiring somebody part-time now that we're doing so well. You might be just the person I'm looking for. Plus, I can use some of that time to convince you to submit your work, take the plunge into getting published. I mean, now that you've got your name back, why not?"

Ray didn't even want to think about getting rejected by magazines, so he skipped right to the important part. "So, you think you might hire me?"

"Sure, why not? Part time for now, but if it works out, I could give you more hours when Randy goes back to school. I have to train you first, but I don't think that'll be a problem."

Ray closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "You don't know how much this means to me, Cal."

"Actually, I sort of do."

Ray opened his eyes to find Cal staring and got a sudden knot in his stomach. "I'm not a charity case and I'm not Hal."

"Never said you were. I didn't mean it like that. Hiring you isn't about my brother. I just know you like the work, taking the pictures. I mean, I get that. I'm the same way, only you've got talent."

"Come on, Cal." Ray gestured towards all the pictures around the room. "You've got talent."

"My picture isn't the one enlarged and in the front window, the one that brings in the customers or gets all the praise. I've got skills and training, but you've got natural talent. There's a difference. You're the one with the eye, Ray. You work for me, I'll teach you all I can about developing the film to get the best result, but you're the one who'll teach me about getting the right shot to develop. That is, if you're willing to take me out and show me how you do it."

Flattered and grateful as hell, Ray's cheeks heated and he held out a hand. "It's a deal."

"I was really impressed by your alacrity with the application and processing of the 10989-B form."

"Thank you, Alan. However, since I've been doing the 10989-B form nearly every day since I entered the force many years ago, one would assume that I might have achieved some level of proficiency."

"True enough, but you'd be surprised at the number of people who don't take them seriously, just fill them out willy-nilly, with little care for proper punctuation or grammar. Many seem to see them as a nuisance instead of a valuable statistical tool."

"On the contrary, the 10989-B form is an essential record of accountability, the tally sheet, if you will, of our duties. It allows one a point of reference for the accomplishments of the day."

"I agree."

Alan drove the Jeep and kept his eyes on the road as they chatted. "I think you'll fit in nicely here, Ben. I really do. Everyone seemed to like you right off. All the merchants were extremely impressed with your effort to meet and remember all their names before you even begin your duty. Of course, you knew some from when you were stationed here before."

"I must admit it was nice to see familiar faces."

"And the other officers seem happy to have you here, too."

Ben cleared his throat and blushed as he tugged his right ear. He sincerely hoped that Alan wasn't going to bring up the rush of female officers who'd made an extra effort to introduce themselves, all the while standing a little too close for comfort. At one point, he'd really wished Ray had been there to do some territorial growling. Instead of saying that out loud, however, he kept it polite. "Everyone seemed quite welcoming."

"Especially Saundra Wayman."

"Which one was she?"

"The redhead."

"The one with the roving hands?"

"That's the one." Alan chuckled. "Yeah, she doesn't seem to take no for an answer. I figure Ray might have to make an appearance before it's over."

"Actually, that might not be a bad idea."

"Saundra's the kind of woman who thinks that a gay man is simply a man who just hasn't met the right woman yet."

"Oh, dear."

"Don't worry about her. I'm sure Ray will set her straight if she steps one foot out of line."

Ben turned in his seat before he spoke. "I know you and Ray haven't been on very cordial terms, but Ray has assured me he'll be on his best behavior on Monday at the Bon Voyage celebration. He appreciates, as do I, all you've done to facilitate our move here."

Alan didn't look over, but shrugged. "Tell him it's okay. If I had somebody like you, I'd be possessive, too."

Surprised by the comment, Ben asked, "Alan?"

"What? I mean, I know you love him. I saw the ring. I think that's great."

"But?"

"You're married, I'm married, enough said. I'm just glad you've allowed me to remain your friend without being awkward about it."

Stunned by the blatant admission, Ben shook his head in bewilderment. He really was blind about certain things, things that Ray obviously could see quite clearly. "I'm sorry. I don’t know what to say."

"There's nothing to say. I love my wife and you love Ray. It doesn't really matter that I care about you as well. It would just complicate things too much and hurt other people to act on it."

"That's very true." Embarrassed by Alan's confession, Ben simply added, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I never realized the depth of your feeling. Ray warned me that your romantic affections existed, but I dismissed his concerns as simply being the result of his occasional insecurity about our relationship. You might find this hard to believe, but at times Ray can be a tad jealous"

Alan snorted. "Yeah, I sort of picked up on that. Regardless, we all make choices. You've clearly made yours as have I. I'm just very happy we can remain friends, despite my unrequited feelings."

"I do value you as a friend, Alan. You've been nothing but kind."

"Thanks." They remained quiet for a few more moments before Alan broke the silence. "Ray's a lucky man."

"As am I."

When they pulled into end of the driveway, Ben sat up straighter. Alan asked, "Who's that?"

"I have no idea."

"You're not expecting anybody?"

"No. If I were, Diefenbaker would've let him out of his car to wait inside."

A black Mercedes with tinted windows was parked right in front of the cabin. The wolf stood there, not allowing the passenger to get out. He barked an alarm when Alan's Jeep pulled up. Ben got out and stepped closer to the car. The back window came down halfway. "Call that beast off before I have to shoot the damn thing."

Ben stood stock still as his blood ran cold. It hurt to even say the name. "Joshua."

"We need to talk, Ben."

"We've got nothing to talk about. Please leave."

Alan called from the Jeep, concerned. "Should I stay?"

Ben swallowed hard, not wanting his friend to leave, but knowing he didn’t need a witness to how he dealt with one of the biggest mistakes of his life. "No, I'm fine. Thank you for the orientation and the ride home."

"You're welcome." Alan hesitated as he asked again, "You're sure you don't need me?"

"I'm sure."

Reluctantly, Alan waved, turned his Jeep around, and headed back out. Ben took a long calming breath and spoke quietly, his hand on Diefenbaker's head to keep the wolf from growling. "What do you want?"

"Get rid of the dog."

"He's a wolf and he stays."

"We need to talk and I can't fucking do that if I'm afraid that animal's going to rip my damn throat out."

Standing his ground, Ben shook his head. "You want to talk, fine, but Diefenbaker stays."

"Goddamn it, Ben, at least send him over there somewhere while we talk. I'm hoping this won't take long."

Against his better judgment, Ben relented, motioning for the wolf to wait on the porch. Diefenbaker went, but had his hackles up, and stood ready to strike at any moment. His eyes never left the man inside the backseat of the car.

Bullweather got out and tapped the driver's glass. The car backed down to the end of the driveway, parking there before Joshua finally spoke again. "You look fit, Ben. I forgot how good-looking you actually are."

Ben studied the man who'd made his life a misery so long ago and whose memory had done the same many times since. Joshua hadn't aged well. Dark hair had become grey and smooth skin wrinkled. His face showed the worst wear, with jowls that jiggled when he spoke and a ruddy complexion that didn't bode well for the future. He looked more like he was in his late sixties than his early fifties. Years of excess had taken a serious toll on his once attractive appearance and, quite likely, his health.

Only the eyes hadn't changed. They were the same cold, empty blue as they'd always been. Ben marveled that he'd never realized how icy and lifeless they seemed. He shuddered and came back to himself, turning his full attention on Joshua. "Why are you here? After all this time, what could we possibly have to discuss?"

"Do you have any idea what kind of mess you caused by coming back? Why didn't you just stay in Chicago with that cop, what's his name, Vecchio?"

"His name is Ray Kowalski, and I have every right to come back. Canada is my home."

"Kowalski? I thought—" Joshua waved a hand. "Never mind. I don't give a fuck what his name is. I just don't need you around right now, not with your talent for causing trouble."

Ben stood a little straighter, realizing suddenly just what Joshua really wanted. "There doesn't need to be any trouble, for you or for me."

"Yeah, you say that now, but I know you. Sooner or later you'll tell someone some bullshit story about what happened between us and my enemies will jump on it. I retire in two months and I don't need you to fuck that up."

"First of all, as you well know, any charges for misconduct would be nullified by the statute of limitations. Secondly, what your enemies want is of no concern to me."

Joshua relaxed visibly, relieved to hear the words. "You're saying you didn't come back just to get back at me for what happened?"

Ben stood a bit straighter, his hands behind his back, his eyes meeting Bullweather's. "You flatter yourself. Nothing in my present life has anything to do with you."

"Yeah? So, why did you come back if it wasn't to screw with me?"

Suddenly angry, Ben snapped, "I don’t owe you any explanations."

"Of course you do. If it weren't for me, you'd still be stuck in Chicago. I signed your transfer. I could sign another just as easily."

"But then you'd have to explain to Deputy Superintendent Meers why you'd do that."

"Fuck you."

"You didn't think I knew that he interceded on my behalf?"

"I was hoping. I don't know why, but Meers seems to think we owe you something because of what happened to your father. Personally, I think you should still be rotting in the States for what you did, turning in one of your own. Gerrard was a good man."

Ben gritted his teeth and hissed, "He killed my father."

"Face it, Ben, your father was a pain in the ass. He stood in the way of progress and kept too many powerful people from making a lot of money. Frankly, I'm surprised he only got shot once."

Refusing to be goaded, Ben ignored the words, keeping his temper in check. He'd played this kind of word game with Bullweather too often to fall for it this time. He'd learned his lesson long ago that losing control only made things worse. Ben made his point calmly. "My father was a brave man, an honest man. He was a legend in the force. That's more than anyone will ever say about you."

Bullweather's frown deepened and he tried another approach. "Look, I didn't come here to talk about your old man. I just need you to promise me you're not going to stir things up by talking about things best forgotten."

Ben stepped closer, standing only a few inches from his nemesis. His voice grew cold and harsh, sounding more like his father's than his own. "I can promise you this, I will not be a victim again. You do anything to hurt me or my partner and I will be your worst nightmare."

Bullweather stared into his eyes for several seconds before blinking and looking away. "Well, fuck, I don't plan to be stupid. I'm not going to do anything to you or your boyfriend. I just wanted to know where you stood."

"I think I've made myself clear. As for you, I think it's time to leave." As soon as he said the words, Diefenbaker leaped off the porch and moved in beside him, growling deep in his throat.

Bullweather paled, visibly shaken. "Shit. That animal's dangerous."

"He's only dangerous when he needs to be. Now, I suggest you walk down to your car and leave. You're not welcome here."

Unable to give up just yet, Bullweather tried one last time. "You'll keep quiet?"

"Only if you leave us alone. Do anything, anything, and everyone will know about what happened. Official charges or not, your reputation will be sullied beyond repair. I doubt even your family could mend the damage, nor do I think they'd be happy to hear the details of your sadistic encounters."

"You wouldn't."

Ben sighed and took one last long breath before he made his final appeal to get the man to leave. "I don't plan to do anything but take care of myself and my partner. However, don't back me into a corner, Joshua. I'm not the same young man you terrorized years ago. I know what love is now and I will do anything I have to in order to protect what I have."

Bullweather studied him several long moments and then nodded. "Very well. I'll leave you alone, but mark my word, Ben. You leak this, tell anybody about what happened, even hint about it, your life won't be worth living. I don't think your partner would like waking up on Banff Island, do you?"

"Just leave." Dief growled one more time, punctuating the words.

"I'm going, but don't think this is over. I've got people all over, people who'll tell me if you're spreading rumors and lies."

Exasperated, Ben snapped, "Go."

As Joshua turned, Dief followed him down the driveway, a few paces back, but staying within pouncing distance until Bullweather finally got in the car and drove away. Then the wolf came back, sat down in front of Ben, and yipped his opinion.

"Yes, I know. This time I'll tell Ray."

"Well, this is a fine kettle of fish."

Ben sighed heavily as he finished chopping the onions for stew, his back to his visitor. "What kettle would that be, Dad?"

"Bullweather, that's what. What are you going to do about that scalawag? Pain in the ass, indeed. If I had my revolver, I'd show him a pain —"

"Were you there?" Ben turned around and dried his hands. "Were you listening in and didn't show yourself?"

"I was at Buck's. I couldn't get here before that ne'er-do-well left, but I heard every word, I assure you. If I'd been here, I'd have shot him, that's what I would've done, taken my gun and just…" His father did several wild firing motions in the air as he showed how he would've attacked Bullweather. "Then I would have walloped him good all about the head and shoulders." Again, he did chops in the air to show his fervor. If Ben hadn't been so upset, it might have even passed for comical.

"Dad, you can't shoot or wallop anybody. You're dead."

"So you keep saying, with much glee, I might add."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. Besides, as you know, I have in the past managed to materialize enough that I can affect the living. If it weren't for me —"

Ben raised a hand, remembering his father saving Ray from the shotgun blast through his car window. "I know. If it weren't for you, Ray would be dead. Thank you. However, that's still no reason to come in here threatening to shoot and wallop people, even Joshua Bullweather."

"He deserves worse."

"Perhaps, but it's not your place to deliver that punishment."

"That doesn't mean I can't enjoy thinking about it. Even the dead have to have some guilty pleasures."

Ben shook his head in amusement at his father's fury. If only he'd been around years ago, perhaps none of this would've happened. Such a thing didn't bear thinking about. After all, Ben knew he could only take responsibility for his own actions, not his father's. He scraped the onions into the stew pot and stirred them in. "I can certainly appreciate the sentiment, Dad, but it's not productive. It doesn't change the fact that Bullweather came all the way from Ottawa in an effort to intimidate me because he's afraid of what I might say or do."

"The man's a disgrace to the uniform."

"Without question."

His father stepped closer and sniffed the simmering stewpot. "Fresh rabbit, son?"

"Yes. I shot it less than an hour ago."

"Smells good. You using this to bribe the Yank?"

"Ray, Dad. It's Ray. It's not a difficult name. Say it with me."

"Don’t be snippy, Son. It doesn't become you."

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration. "I've asked you before to refer —"

"Oh, fiddlesticks. You're just like your mother, a stickler for the little things. The Yank, Ray, what difference does it make? You know who you're sleeping with. Now, answer the question."

"What was the question again?"

"Is the stew an inducement to keep the man calm so he doesn’t go after Bullweather and shoot him?"

Ben stirred the stew some more and shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. Ray's not going to shoot anybody. The stew is just stew."

"Food, Son, is rarely just about cooking something and eating because one has to eat."

"It's not?"

"Your mother roasted me a whole moose haunch when she wanted to tell me she was pregnant. When I returned home after you'd spoken that first time, it was a gooseberry pie. I gave her a whole bushel of turnips when you walked on your own. No, Son, food is seldom just about the food. It's about sharing one's hopes and fear, one's dreams with the person you love."

Ben thought of all the times he'd given Ray chocolate as a peace offering, or the Christmas meal they'd made together last year. "I never really thought about it like that, but I suppose you're right. We do use food in symbolic gestures, whether it be as an apology or to celebrate our joy at just being together."

"And the stew?"

"Ray likes my stew. I wanted him in a good mood before I told him about Bullweather."

"Sorry, Son, it's a nice gesture, but I'm afraid it won't make much of a difference, not this time. Your partner's going to be hopping mad when you tell him. Stew won't change that."

Ben gave in and confessed. "Perhaps, but I didn't trust myself enough to handle an ax to chop wood."

His father tapped his temple in understanding. "Good thinking, Benton. I wouldn't trust myself with an ax, either. I'd be too busy seeing Bullweather's neck stretched out on the chopping block. Might end up doing myself an injury."

"Agreed."

"So, you still haven't said. What are your plans?"

"I don't know. My original plan was to let it go, to say nothing. It would be the easiest course. Ray and I don't need the added complication of going public with such an unsavory time in my past. The force doesn’t need that kind of blemish, either. Still —"

"He's a blight and he can't be trusted."

"Exactly."

"Do you think he'll act against you?"

"He already has. He tried to poison my new commanding officer's mind against me."

"But that didn't work. Hathaway's a good man."

Ben stared at his father in disbelief. "You heard that, too?"

Fraser Senior tugged at his right ear and shrugged. "I can't always be here, Son, but I do pay what attention I can. I hear what I need to hear, see what I need to see. Hathaway believed you and he sees Bullweather for what he is, a scoundrel. His hands are tied to bring charges, but he's not blind. He won't let Bullweather interfere with your job here."

"I thought as much, but one can never know for sure. I sometimes wish I had Ray's instinct for judging people."

"It's there, Son, buried rather deeply, but there. It's a little closer to the surface than it used to be, thanks to the Yank. Give it time."

Ben leaned back, his butt braced against the counter, arms crossed. "So, what do you think I should do? Should I just leave it alone and see what happens, see if he attacks? Or should I attack first, go to the Commissioner or the papers?"

"Good God, Son, not the papers."

"The force won't do a thing against this man. Public pressure might."

"True, but the damage to you and your career would be irreparable. You were the victim, but that wouldn't matter. You'd be forced to resign as well."

Chest tight, Ben nodded, acknowledging the fact that there would be no way he could be effective as an officer of the law if the truth of his sexual past came out. The public just wasn't that forgiving of homosexual deviance, not yet. He'd seen it many times before. They blamed the victim as much as the predator, if not more so. Men weren't supposed to be sexual victims, weren't supposed to be viewed as weak. It didn't matter that it had nothing to do with weakness, but of being deceived and brutalized. He shuddered and pushed those thoughts away for another time, a less vulnerable time. "I know that."

"If you want to go that route, I'll support you, you know that. However, if it were me, I'd wait to see Bullweather's next move. He's scared and frightened. Men like that often make fatal mistakes. Give the man enough rope and —"

Ben finished the sentence. "He'll hang himself."

"Exactly. My advice is to just let it go for now. Let it play out, but it's up to you. It's your life. Lord knows, you'll do what you want anyway."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. Now, I need to get back to Buck's. I swear I don’t how that man survived all those years on his own when we were estranged. The man is hopeless around a hacksaw."

"Give him my best."

"I will, Son. The same for the Yank."

"It's Ray, Dad. I wish just for once —" Not for the first time in his life, Ben found himself protesting to thin air.

Ray parked the Jeep in front of the cabin and turned off the engine, still grinning from ear to ear. Hell, he had a job, something that would help pay the bills and let him pursue his photography, too. After he'd been officially hired, he'd spent the rest of the afternoon working with Cal, checking out the digital printing machines and the darkroom. He'd never seen so many chemicals all lined up together on shelves since high school science class when Jim Jokalski blew up the lab. And, like school, there was a ton of new stuff to learn, but both Cal and his son were good teachers and showed a lot of patience with the new kid. Besides, for some reason it didn't seem all that hard if he just took things one step at a time and didn't jump the gun or get too crazy like he usually did. The whole thing was going to be great, better than being a cop even, well, as good as maybe, almost.

Still smiling, Ray picked up the bakery box beside him and got out of the Jeep. Dief came running off the porch, nearly knocking him down, his paws all muddy. "Whoa, there, buddy. Settle down. Enough of the wolf slobber, okay? I'll give you a doughnut when I get inside."

The door opened and Ben called out, "I thought you'd be home hours ago. I was starting to worry."

His good mood went down just a few notches. "I would've called, but —"

"You had the phone."

"Yeah, sort of. Sorry." Ray held the white box above his head and once more spoke to the wolf, wagging a finger as he fussed. "Quit it. You jump one more time and I'll eat the doughnut myself. Got it?"

Diefenbaker sat down immediately, his eyes trained on the box, his tongue hanging out. "Jesus, Ben, don't you ever feed this mutt?"

"I fear the appeal of fresh bakery goods far outweighs the delight of wild game and carcasses."

"Gee, I wonder why?"

"He was in Chicago for a long time, Ray. It appears his natural instincts have been dulled somewhat by the addition of so much refined sugar to his diet."

"Huh uh, right." Ray sniffed the air. "Something smells good. What's cooking?"

"Rabbit stew."

"With real rabbit?"

Ben smiled at that. "Would you prefer fake rabbit?"

"No, the real thing's okay. Just don't tell me the details. I don’t want to think about the poor little bunny with all the guts ripped out and stuff."

"I won't. In return, promise me you won't eat whatever's in the box yet. It'll spoil your appetite."

"Deal." Ray moved past Ben to go inside, pecking him on the cheek as he passed. He tossed the doughnut to the wolf just before Ben closed the screen door. Jaws snapped and Dief chowed down with gusto, acting like he hadn't eaten in a kabillion years. Ray shook his head for a few extra seconds, but then turned his attention back to Ben. "Got news."

"Really? What?"

"Guess."

Sighing heavily, Ben shook his head. "Please, Ray, just tell me."

Ray's good mood took a nosedive. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just —"

"Don't lie." Ray put the box on the table and stepped closer, touching Ben's face gently. "Something happened, something not good. I can tell. I mean, you even killed a rabbit and you're cooking. Must be pretty bad." Being more direct with his questions, he asked, "The new job stink? Did somebody say something to piss you off, something about being queer or about living with the funny-looking blond guy?"

"No, nothing like that." Ben pulled away. "Let me get you some coffee first. We do need to talk."

"Forget the coffee, Ben. Just tell me what's going on? Why do you look like you got beat up by the other Mounties or something?"

Swallowing hard, Ben motioned to one of the chairs at the table. "Please sit."

"Ben —"

"Ray, please, just let me tell you my way for once."

Reluctantly, Ray sat down, but he prompted, "So I'm sitting. Now what?"

"I don't want you to get upset."

"Too late."

"I'm serious, Ray. I handled things."

"Handled what?"

"Joshua came to see me today."

Ray gripped the edge of the table and shut his eyes, gritting his teeth so hard, he nearly cracked a molar. He forced himself to remain as calm as possible, remembering Ben's fear about Ray flying off the handle when he told him maddening shit like when abusive ex-lovers showed up out of fucking nowhere. He didn’t want Ben to think he couldn’t tell him stuff. "That son of a bitch was at headquarters?"

"No, here at the cabin."

Ray opened his eyes and stared at Ben in disbelief. "That asshole had the fucking nerve to show up here?"

"Yes."

Ben reached over and took Ray's hand, prying it from the table's edge. He laced their fingers together and waited. Ray thought his heart would pump out of his chest and his head would explode. Even the vein in his forehead throbbed like crazy as he spoke through clenched teeth. "What did he want?"

"To bully me. He thinks I came back to Canada for the sole purpose of ruining his life."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't. The irony is that after his threats, I feel somewhat conflicted and contrary."

"You want to tell somebody?"

"I've thought about it, yes. However, I'm not the only one who would be at risk here."

"Look, don't worry about me in this whole thing. You want to expose the shit, do it. Tell the higher ups, the news, I don't care. This guy deserves to have his ass hung out to dry."

"Unfortunately, it wouldn't just be his rear on the line, Ray. I'd be forced to resign. I feel rather cowardly in remaining quiet, as if I condone his behavior, but at the same time —"

"You don't want to lose what you have."

"Exactly."

"I get that, I do." Ray finally took a deep breath. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

Ray squeezed his hand. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you, you know that, right?"

"I do, yes."

"And thanks for telling me, not keeping me in the dark this time."

"I promised I wouldn't do that again and I won't."

"Good, good." Ray studied Ben's grim expression, saw the sadness in his eyes. "This had to be tough, seeing him again. You okay?"

"I’m fine." Ben bit his lower lip and then shook his head. "No, that's not entirely true. I’m not fine, but I will be. Having you here gives me strength."

"Mushy much?"

Ben smiled at the tease. "More than I ever thought possible."

Ray reached over and cupped Ben's cheek, the evening whiskers rough against his palm. "I'm really sorry that asshole showed up again."

"Actually, in a way, I'm glad he did."

Sitting back, Ray released Ben's hand and cocked his head as he asked, "And why's that?"

"He looked terrible. He hasn't aged well."

"Old and flabby, huh?"

"Yes, but that's not why I'm glad he came." Ben leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hands together as he explained, "I still saw him in my mind as this powerful person, this person who forced me to do things I didn't want to do, who violated my trust. Today all I saw was a broken man, Ray, old and rather pitiful."

"He's not worth your pity, Ben."

"Maybe not, but still, it let me see that the reality of my fear is no longer valid. He really can't hurt me if I don't allow it."

"Don't dismiss him yet. He's still a superintendent, right? He could cause a lot of shit with your job."

"I'm not talking about that kind of power, Ray."

Ray nodded slowly, understanding all too well. "I get it. You're talking about how he can't hurt you because you see him for what he is now, some twisted fuck who likes to mess with people's heads, to abuse their trust. He can't mess with you anymore because you're stronger now. You've moved on."

"Yes, I've moved on, as it were, to you, someone I can trust."

"Same here."

"Thank you, Ray, for understanding."

"You're welcome, but just so you know, if that guy shows up and I'm here, I'll kick his miserable head in."

Ben chuckled softly. "You sound like my father."

"Your old man? What's he got to do with anything?"

"He was here a while ago. He threatened to do the same thing, compounded with shooting him."

"Way to go, Pops."

"Ray, don't encourage him."

"I don't see why not. Besides, he's dead. He can't shoot anybody, right?"

"Not that I know of, no, but he's done other things."

Ray nodded, the vivid memory of Ben's father's ghost jerking him out of harm's way making him shudder and shake just thinking about it. "Oh, yeah, I know."

"He says hello, by the way."

"He should've stuck around. I miss talking to the old coot."

"He's helping Buck rebuild the cabin."

Ray scratched his head as he tried to picture a ghost and a hammer. "How's he doing that?"

"If I know my father, he's giving lots of annoying directions and doing very little of the actual labor."

"Be fair, Ben. The guy's dead. His cabin-building days are pretty much over."

"Didn't keep him from building an office in my closet."

Ray nodded with a grin. "True enough." Taking a long breath, Ray asked, "So, we done talking about what's his name the asshole? Can I give you my good news yet?"

Ben stood and went to the stove to stir the simmering pot. "We are officially done with the Bullweather report. Please, share your good tidings."

"Good tidings? What is this, 1700?" Before Ben could correct him on the date or anything else, Ray continued. "I got a job."

"A job?"

"Yeah, Cal told me I could work part-time until fall and then go fulltime if I want. It's $14 an hour and all the film and developing I want for free."

"Congratulations, Ray. That sounds perfect."

"Cal's going to teach me the business. That's how come I was so late. I was just getting a feel for it. Feels good, feels right. I think I can do this."

"I'm sure you can." Ben tapped the spoon on the rim of the stewpot. "When do you start?"

"Not until after you do. I told him I wanted to have these last few days together before you go back on duty. Plus, I've got to get all the paperwork done."

"I can do that for you."

Ray smiled even bigger. "I was hoping you'd say that. The forms are out in the car, already signed by Cal. I'll get them later."

Ben sat back down and tapped the top of the bakery box. "So, what did you bring home for dessert?"

Whipping the box open, Ray showed him his prize. "Brownies laced with Smarties. Can you believe it? Chocolate on chocolate. Bought a half dozen so we can have some for breakfast, too."

Ben cocked his head, his tongue darting out across his lower lip, his eyes focused on something other than the brownies. Ray snapped his fingers. "Earth to Ben."

"I'm sorry. I was just thinking of something my father said."

"Yeah? What?"

"He mentioned that food is rarely about the food itself, but rather the connection it affords to those who share it."

"Huh?"

Picking up one of the brownies, Ben tore it in half. He held up one piece to Ray's mouth, but Ray wasn't biting. "What happened to that whole it'll spoil your appetite stuff?"

"I wish to celebrate your new job and our life together with chocolate, Ray. Join me."

Eyes bright, Ray took a big bite, half the icing smeared on his lips. As he chewed, Ben ate the other half, all in one bite. Ray nearly choked on a Smartie as he watched Ben lazily eat the dessert, his eyes dark with growing arousal.

Already getting hard, Ray stood up, moved the stew to the cooler part of the stove, and then dragged Ben off to bed. New job, new life, it was all good.

If they gave an Olympic medal for stripping in record time, Ben would win hands down. Ray lay on the bed, buck-naked and stretched out with a nude Ben on top in about sixty seconds flat. Ben's chocolate-flavored tongue shoved hard into Ray's mouth, exploring, as Ray just went with it. Ben got like that sometimes, all hungry and possessive, like he'd never had it before. Ben whispered words between kisses. Kiss, "Love you," kiss, "want you," kiss, kiss, "need you." It all rushed together and made Ray's head spin.

He grabbed Ben's head and lifted it. "Ben, Ben, Ben, wait up."

Blue eyes took a second to focus before Ben whispered, "I love you, Ray."

"I love you, too, but slow down, okay? We don't have to rush things."

Ben chuckled low in his throat and shook his head. "On the contrary, Ray. I feel a rather strong sense of urgency." To accent his words, Ben shoved his leaky erection against Ray's crotch.

Ray laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, I get that. You want to fuck, huh?"

Even like they were, naked and all sweaty, Ben blushed. "We make love, Ray. We don't fuck."

Ray ran a finger along Ben's lower lip when he heard Ben say the F-word. "I know we make love, Ben, but sometimes I just like to talk dirty, you know?"

"I have noticed that idiosyncrasy, on occasion, yes."

"You calling me an idiot?"

"I'm saying, I know you have that quirk, that foible, that —"

"Kink?"

"Yes, that kink from time to time, not always, but sometimes." Ben cocked his head and smiled. "Would you like me to talk dirty, too, Ray?"

Chuckling, Ray shook his head as he teased Ben's right nipple. "I don’t think 'Please orally stimulate my penis,' has the same punch as suck my dick."

The shade of pink darkened all over Ben's body and his face got deadly serious. "But I could try. I could say those words, if that's what you really wanted."

"You could, huh? So, instead of saying penetrate me, you're going to say fuck me? Come on, Ben. We've been together for how long and you've never once talked dirty, not like that."

Taking the challenge, Ben kissed him hard before pulling back, his voice suddenly husky and raw. "Fuck me, Ray, fuck me hard. Put your dick in my ass and fuck me."

Ray expected to laugh, to at least smile a little at hearing Ben try to talk dirty. But that didn't happen, not even close. Instead, a rush roared through Ray's body, the words like a match to dry grass. He trembled all over as he whispered, "Jesus, Ben, what you do to me."

Stroking Ray's cock, Ben smiled as he pleaded, "Come on, Ray, do me, fuck me, make me come."

Ray's head spun. He never expected Ben to ever say anything like that, to talk so filthy and nasty, making him so fucking hot, he leaked all over Ben's hand. "You want that? You want me inside you?"

"Oh, yes." Ben eased back enough that he could reach Ray's cock with his mouth. He licked it and then grinned wider. "I love your dick, too, Ray, so long and lean, the taste sharp and tangy, just like you."

Ray stopped Ben from tonguing him again, his body humming and turned on like nobody's business. "Stop. You want to fuck, I'll fuck you, but not if I come before I get a chance."

Smug, Ben nodded and they shifted on the bed, Ben face down, legs spread, his ass lifted. Ray slapped his butt. "Nope, I want to see your face while I fuck you."

For the first time, Ben hesitated, "Ray, I —"

Ray knew the answer, knew that Ben preferred doggie style. Still, he wanted to try something different, something they'd only done a few times before, but that he really got off on. "What? You don't want to watch me fuck you?"

"It's not that. It's just sometimes I feel, well, that is to say, I feel a little self-conscious in that position."

"Self-conscious as in embarrassed?"

"Well, yes."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. I just do."

Sighing heavily, Ray figured it really wasn't the time or place to discuss Ben's hang-ups, so he just gave in. "Okay, if it bothers you, that's okay. Another time, maybe."

Ben bit his lip, obviously struggling with the decision. "No, no, if you want to do it that way, I can try. We've done it like that before."

"I know, but you don't like it and I'd never make you do something you didn't want, just like you'd never make me do anything I didn't want. Fair's fair."

Ben blinked and took a deep breath. Instead of relenting, he nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Ray. Now, if you don't mind, perhaps we could proceed with the fucking now?"

Laughing out loud, Ray shook his head, still not quite believing the new dirty mouth on his Mountie. "Dying to get fucked in the ass, huh?"

"Dying might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you fucking my ass certainly wouldn't be an unwelcome action. Please continue."

"Jesus, I've created a monster, a potty-mouthed Mountie." Ray paused, still smiling, but his lust growing again as he watched Ben lie there, all hot and bothered.

Ray moved in between Ben's legs, got the lube from the side table, and used a finger to tease the hole. Ben bucked up and moaned in pleasure. "Like that? Like having your ass played with?" When Ben didn't answer, Ray pushed his finger inside a lot deeper, "Answer me, Ben. Do you like that?"

Ben grunted and his answer came muffled through the pillow, "Yes."

"Want me to keep doing it?"

"Please."

"Please what?"

Ben hesitated and then whispered, "Please, Ray?"

Finger fucking Ben, Ray grinned wider, "That'll do. Get on all fours. I want to fuck you really hard and deep."

Ben shuddered at the words, Ray's fingers buried inside him as he did what Ray said. On all fours, completely vulnerable, Ray kissed his right ass cheek while he fingered Ben with one hand and stroked his leaking dick with the other. He knew from experience, Ben wouldn't last much longer. He removed his fingers and got the condom on in a hurry, added more slick, and then guided his dick to the hole, using his other hand to hold Ben steady. "You ready, Ben?"

"More than ready, Ray." The voice sounded strangled and in pain, but Ray knew better. He recognized the need, the hunger in his lover's voice.

Finished with any kind of talking, dirty or otherwise, Ray shoved the tip inside, taking his time, trying to be careful. But Ben had other ideas and pushed back against him, forcing him inside faster than he would've gone himself. Overwhelmed by sensation, knowing what Ben wanted, Ray went to town, started ramming inside, doing it hard like Ben liked, like Ray liked. They became one person, in and out, Ray thrusting to the rhythm that Ben set, needing to get off.

It took only a matter of minutes before Ray shuddered with coming, his head exploding with white fiery pleasure, his dick throbbing with release. Ben didn't stop, kept up the pace even though Ray jerked and arched backward, paralyzed with his own climax. In a matter of seconds, Ben joined him, helping himself along with his own hand, screaming out Ray's name and then collapsing beneath Ray.

Falling forward, completely out of breath, his lungs achy and heart still pounding, Ray didn't even try to speak, just lay there, gasping for air. Eyes squeezed shut, layered in sweat, Ray cupped the back of Ben's head. Beneath him, Ben lay very still, very quiet. After he got his wind back, Ray whispered, "You okay?"

It took an extra second to get an answer. "More than okay."

"Good, that's good. I never want to hurt you."

Ben didn't answer right away. Instead, he let out a long breath, his movement signaling for Ray to move, to let him turn over. Reluctantly, Ray pulled out and removed the condom. Ben got out of bed, went to the sink, and quickly returned with a cloth to clean both himself and then Ray. He put the cloth away and then crawled back in bed and into Ray's arms. "I love you. You could never hurt me."

Holding Ben in his arms, his chin resting on Ben's head, Ray sighed. "It's just sometimes it seems a little out of control, that's all."

Ben's beard rubbed against Ray's chest, the burn more pleasure than pain. He repeated himself. "You could never hurt me, Ray. I trust you."

"I know, but —"

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Could we just bask in the afterglow for a bit?"

"Afterglow, huh?"

"Yes." Ray's stomach growled and Ben laughed, shaking his head. "Let me guess. You didn't have lunch."

"I sort of forgot." Ray squeezed him and kissed the top of his head. "Sorry."

"No, that's fine. The stew's ready. I'll just make us some biscuits."

As Ben tried to get up, Ray held on tight, and shook his head. "In a little bit. Let's bask some more. Basking's good. I can go with basking."

Ben relaxed in his arms, his eyes closed, a big smile on his face. The look made Ray's heart sing.

Ray did a final swipe of his plate with his biscuit to soak up any leftover sauce and stuffed it in his mouth. He washed it all down with some coffee, thinking he hadn't eaten that much at one sitting in a very long time. Not only had his sex drive come back with a vengeance, but his long lost appetite finally showed up, too. "Man, that was good stew."

"I'm glad you liked it."

"Yeah, yeah, I did. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Ray wiped his mouth off with his napkin and sat back. "You never did tell me about what happened at orientation."

Putting his cup down, Ben grew serious. "They seem like a welcoming enough group, but I must admit it all felt a bit odd."

"Maybe it was just you wearing the wrong colored suit or something."

"I'm serious, Ray."

"Me, too. A guy gets used to all that itchy-scratchy when he's working, and it's hard to break the habit."

"It's not the uniform, though I must confess, I'll be glad when it's cooler and I'll be allowed to wear the red."

"Yeah, me, too." Ray didn't add that the red did a number on his libido now that it was awake and kicking again.

"No, it's just that I've grown accustomed to working with you. This is more of a group effort in general."

"I guess that makes sense. So is this odd business you're feeling like a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I haven't decided."

"Uhm."

Ben's eyebrow shot up. "Uhm, Ray? Since when have you used uhm?"

"Since I started hanging around with a guy who says it all the time when he's not sure what else to say."

"I see."

"Look, I just did the uhm thing because I wasn't sure what you wanted to hear."

"I would prefer to hear what you think."

"Might not like it."

"I'd have to hear it first to judge, now wouldn't I?"

Ray pointed a finger and complained. "Now, see. There you go, getting all snippy and I haven't even said nothing yet."

"If you haven't said nothing, then you must have said something. Double negatives—"

"Shut up about the double negative shit, okay? We're not in school here." Rolling his eyes, Ray shook his head in frustration. "You know what I meant."

"Not really, no. Why would I be disturbed by what you have to say?"

"Maybe you won't be, but I'm thinking you might be, just because."

"Just because why?"

"Just because sometimes you don't like hearing some stuff."

"Good lord, Ray, would you just come out and say what you mean and stop dancing around the shrub."

"Dancing around the shrub?" Ray thought for a moment and then snorted as he figured it out. "You mean stop dancing around the bush?"

"All right then, bush. Just say something."

Ray chuckled to himself. It used to be a lot harder to get Ben's goat. "It's just that I figure the whole being odd business is probably because you're not top dog yet."

"Top dog?"

"Yeah, you know, leader of the pack, the guy with all the answers, the guy who runs the show. Instead, you're the new guy. That always feels queer until you find your spot."

"My spot?"

"Yeah, you know, where you fit in, your groove, where you can do the best job. In Chicago, that was with me. Here it's going to be different. You don't work with partners for the most part, right?"

"Not usually. We do pair up for special assignments, but patrols tend to be singular."

"Like walking a beat. You do that alone, but then you report back and you're part of this big group, nobody standing out much, just one cog in the gear or something like that."

Ben studied him a moment and then nodded. "I suppose that's partially true. I never quite thought of it like that."

"See, sometimes I can make a good point."

"Sometimes, yes. However, I have to disagree with your comment about being top dog, as it were. I was never that."

Ray laughed out loud before drinking the last of his coffee. He stood up and poured himself more. "Sure you were."

"Ray, there was always Inspector Thatcher or Lt. Welsh to command my actions. I was never the superior officer on any operation."

"That's not what I’m talking about."

"Then what are you talking about?"

"You and me. You're always top dog, you know that, right?"

Ben rubbed his eyebrow, taking his time to thing about it for a minute before he finally shook his head. "Ray, we're partners. I'm no more the dominant partner than you are. We share responsibility in the relationship."

"In the relationship, yeah, on the job, no."

"You're serious?"

"I can count on one hand the number of times we did what I said. It was always what you said."

"But —"

Ray held up a hand. "It's okay. I was good with that. I mean, when it counted, you'd listen. Otherwise, it got the job done, so who cares?"

Ben's mouth opened and then shut again as he sat there stunned. Ray could see the wheels turning because he knew how Ben's head worked. Now he'd say something about being sorry. One… two… wait for it. "Ray, I'm so sorry you felt that way. It was never my intention —"

"Shut up."

"Ray —"

"I mean it. Shut up about being sorry. Like I said, I didn't mind. I liked it that way. Sure I fussed about it, but when push came to shove, I knew we worked best that way. You out front with me backing you up." Ray paused and grinned. "You were always the smart one. Me, I'm just pretty."

Ben laughed out loud, and then stood up, walking over to draw Ray into an embrace. Arms wrapped around Ray's waist, and Ben kissed him gently. "You are pretty, Ray, very pretty, but you're smart, too, smarter than I am sometimes. You constantly amaze me with your insight into my behavior as well as your own."

Ray ignored everything but the important bit. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Oh, yes, pretty as a picture." Then he kissed him, long and hard, and Ben really knew how to kiss when it counted and sometimes even when it didn’t.

Taking his time, Ray kissed Ben back, using his tongue to swab all around his mouth, enjoying the lingering taste of rabbit stew and tea. He pulled back and sighed happily, but not quite done with having fun with Ben. "You think I'm prettier than you, huh?"

"Much prettier."

Ray punched him in the chest playfully. "You're so full of shit. Nobody's prettier than you."

"I beg to differ. Beauty being personally subjective, I find you much more attractive than I find myself."

"So you're saying you'd rather do me than do yourself?"

Ben choked on his own laughter, dropping his head against Ray's shoulder. He kissed and licked Ray's neck and then whispered, "You know the answer to that, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Ray sighed heavily, suddenly serious. "I know you want to. I'm still not ready yet, but I've been thinking…"

Ben lifted his head, his eyes sparkling and hopeful. "About what, Ray?"

"About how much you really like it when I do it to you."

"By it, do you mean being penetrated?"

"Yeah, that. Funny, huh? I mean, when we were messing around, we could talk all kinds of dirty, but now we're all formal again. That's kind of weird, the way —"

"Ray, stop blithering and tell me what you're really saying."

Taking a big breath before the plunge, Ray blurted out. "I want to try some stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, just maybe some little stuff at first, a finger, a tongue, not the whole deal. I know I'd freak out if we did that, but I really want to see if I can handle the other stuff."

Ben caressed his face. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I mean, we don't have to do it just this minute or anything, but tonight, next time we do something, I thought, why not give it a shot?"

Still touching his face gently, Ben met his gaze, his eyes all deep blue and intense. "You don't have to, Ray. We've discussed this before. I don't want you to ever feel pressured to do something that makes you uncomfortable."

"I know that." Ray captured the hand at his face. "I just wanted to put it out there for consideration, that's all. I think I'm ready to just skirt the edge a little bit. You know, mess around some, but not go all the way. Would you be okay with that? I mean, I don't want to be a cock-tease or anything. I just want to try some stuff out, see how it goes, and go from there. Sort of ease into it."

"I think that's a fine idea, Ray. As for being a tease, that wouldn't be the case at all. I love you. I'll do only what you want, nothing more."

Pushing down just the little rush of panic, Ray went with that. "Okay, okay, later then, we can just see what happens. Might be a breeze, might send me around the bend. No pressure. You've got 911 on speed dial, right?"

Both hands on his face, Ben kissed him tenderly, softly and then pulled back. "It'll be fine."

"What if I have a flashback or something?"

"Then we'll deal with it."

"We'll deal with it? How's that? I'm the one with the wonky head."

Still holding Ray's face, Ben leaned in closer and repeated himself. "We'll deal with it."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely. You'll be fine."

"And if I freak?"

"That's not going to happen, but if it does, then we'll stop. Ray, you're in charge here. You have the power to do or not do anything you want in that bed or anywhere else."

Ray gripped both of Ben's wrists and closed his eyes. "Some part of me knows that, but some other part of me thinks that's just bullshit."

"Then tell that part to shut up."

Ray's eyes flew open and he grinned. "Just like that, huh, shut up and that's it, everything's cool, no more freak outs whenever you touch my ass?"

Instead of answering, Ben kissed him harder, shoving Ray against the counter. Hands roamed between his legs and suddenly all Ray's blood went south. Just as Ray shoved his hips back to meet Ben's, he heard a knock at the screen door and someone clear his throat. "Excuse me, guys. Sorry, I didn't mean to barge in. I'll just come back another time."

Ben pulled away in a flash, his face as red as his uniform straight from the cleaners. "Stevie! No, that's quite all right. We were just, that is to say…"

Ray straightened up first and moved to the door. He opened it and held out a hand. "You must be Stevie Garvey. Come on in."

"I don’t want to interrupt anything."

"You're not. We can pick it up later. I'm Ray Kowalski, by the way. Fraser's mouth will kick in any minute as soon as the blood gets back to his brain."

Ben flushed scarlet again and he sputtered. "I'm sorry, Stevie. I forgot all about asking you to come out tonight."

"Yeah, I can see that." Stevie grinned as he shook Ray's hand and right away Ray knew it was okay. The guy didn't care that he'd walked in on two grown men making out in the kitchen.

Ray glanced out on the porch and saw Dief still napping. "Some watchdog we've got there."

"Oh, Diefenbaker knows Stevie from before, Ray. There'd be no reason for him to raise the alarm on his arrival."

"Yeah, Dief's cool. Besides, why do you two need a watchdog way out here, eh?"

"No reason." Ray ran a hand through his hair and wished like hell he had a bathroom he could run to for just a couple of minutes to get decent. As it was, he was grateful as hell for loose sweatpants. He motioned toward the table. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Ray suddenly realized the young man carried a big cardboard tube probably full of blueprints. As Stevie sat down, Ray hurriedly cleared the table in case they needed to roll something out.

Still a little red and flustered, Ben asked, "Would you like coffee or tea?"

"No, I'm fine, Constable, thanks."

For the first time, Ray took a full accounting of Stevie Garvey. Old enough to have his own business, he still didn't look old enough to drive. Tall, well built, he still had a kid's face, rounded with big brown eyes and kind of a pug nose. It was a cute face, but not mature yet. Ray sat at the table and realized those eyes hadn't stopped staring at Ben since he got there. Shit. He'd bet money the kid had it bad for Ben growing up, the big hero Mountie who got him out of a jam and turned his life around. Ray understood that, but was suddenly glad the kid had walked in on them. Nothing like a live demonstration to make clear what was what in the who belonged to who department.

Ray pointed at the tube. "Those the blueprints?"

"Yeah."

Stevie tore his greedy eyes away from Ben long enough to nod and take a good look at Ray for the first time. Ray saw the kid gulp and couldn't stop his own grin. Stevie Garvey got the picture pretty quick and recognized Ray for what he was, Ben's crazy, don't fuck with me partner from Chicago, a happy to meet you, but I'll kick you in the head if you touch my boyfriend, kind of guy.

Ben sat down across from Stevie and asked, "Did you make the adjustments for the wiring that I suggested?"

Nervously, Stevie took the plans out and unrolled them. "I had my draftsman Jamison do that. He's good. He made just a few changes, but overall, I think we can get this approved and actually get started next week."

Startled, Ray couldn't believe it. "Next week?"

"You got lucky. I had a cancellation, so I can squeeze the job in. I've got plenty of men begging to work while the weather's good, so I can run more than one job site if I have to. Still, I don't like to have more than a couple going at any one time. I like to oversee everything and make sure everything's right, you know?"

Stevie spoke without looking up, and Ray knew he was lying through his teeth about the cancellation. Ben asked for his help and the kid made it happen. For the first time, Ray didn't mind that Stevie had a crush. He and Ben were going to get their cabin, their new home without having to wait 'til doomsday or the first snowflake, whichever came first.

Ben wasn't dense. No way he missed the lie, too, but he didn't call him on it. Instead, he thanked the young man. "I appreciate you finding time to do this, Stevie. I've seen your work and I'm sure we'll be pleased with the results."

The guy beamed with pride. "Thank you, Constable. I'll do my best. I won't let you down." His expression grew serious. "There is one problem, though."

Ben asked first. "What's that?"

"You can't stay in the cabin while we're doing construction and you'll need to store or secure your furniture, too. It's too dangerous. The stove can stay, but that's about it."

Ray hadn't thought of that, but it made sense. "So how long do you think the whole thing's going to take to finish?"

"Two weeks if we use a couple of extra men, three if we don't or if we have bad weather."

Ray nodded, happy to hear they wouldn't be homeless that long. "Spring for the extra men. The sooner this is done, the better."

Ben chimed in. "I agree."

Stevie was all smiles. "That's going to make some people happy. Jobs have been pretty scarce these days. Economy's slow, you know?"

"Understood. Now, I think we should discuss the specifications of —"

Ray raised a hand. "You guys chat. I'm going to the can."

Stevie laughed. "Bet you'll be happy when I'm finished putting one of those in, huh?"

"You've got no idea."

As he walked out, he heard Ben's voice inside going on and on about proper and appropriate plumbing fixtures, something he never in his life thought he'd get all warm and fuzzy over. Of course, that was before he nearly froze his ass off last Christmas. Since then, he'd never once taken a flush handle or a hot shower for granted.

Ben and the kid were still yakking about faucets and fittings when he came back inside to wash his hands. He patted Ben on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but while you guys are working out the details, I'm going to go shoot some film while the light's good."

Surprised, Stevie asked, "You're a photographer?"

Ben answered for him. "He's a very good photographer actually. Do you know that eagle poster in Cal Tyler's photo shop?"

"Yeah, I've seen it. Why?"

"Ray took it last winter."

Stevie's eyes widened and then he whistled. "Wow, cool. Great shot. How come Cal doesn't have your name on it, eh?"

Ray grabbed up his camera and his bag, talking as he headed for the door. "It's a long story." He turned his attention to Ben. "I'm headed toward the water and I'm taking Dief."

"I'll come down when we finish here."

Fiddling with his strap, Ray then looked back at Stevie. "Before I leave, do you need some kind of deposit? I've only got starter checks from the bank, but I can get you something certified first thing Monday morning if you need it."

"I can wait until Monday. It's not a problem."

"Thanks."

"Ray, I can give him the money."

Ray stopped and shook his head, taking a firm stand. "We settled this before, remember? You paid for the land. I'm paying for the other stuff. Deal?"

Reluctantly, Ben nodded in agreement. "Deal."

"That's settled. And, Stevie, it was good to meet you."

"Same here."

Ray headed outside, calling to Dief. "Come on, Furface. Let's see if we can scare up some decent pictures while the getting's good."

They headed out together, walking through the tall grasses and brush, making a small foot trail to the bank of the lake along the edge of their property. He switched out the telescopic close-up lens for a wide angle, taking his time to adjust the speed and aperture settings to make up for the change.

Then he sat on the flat rock and used his elbows on his knees as a makeshift tripod. The overcast lighting was perfect, gave everything a softer glow, a little more depth without a lot of shadows. Through the lens, he saw all the blues and greens of the water as he shot the landscape along the far bank as well as the trees and hills beyond. He moved his position several times to get different angles, framing out from left to right. The colors blended together like some abstract watercolor. Ray liked watercolors, liked how everything washed together and gave a soft quality to the image.

He finished a whole roll and decided to switch back to the telescopic close-up lens. The family of ducks was back and he saw a couple of ferrets drinking on the far bank where the trees came near the water. He liked landscapes, but he preferred the challenge of getting the animals on film. They gave a lot more life to the shot, more energy, something that landscapes just didn't have.

He shot nearly three more rolls before Ben showed up and tapped him on the shoulder. "Mind if I join you?"

"Pull up a rock. Hold on. I've got two more shots." He took them quickly and then stored the camera, lens, and film while he talked. "You and Stevie get everything worked out?"

"I think so. I'm surprised you didn't at least want to sit in on the planning stages of the cabin, Ray."

Zipping up his bag, Ray frowned at Ben's disappointed tone. "You upset about that?"

"I'm just wondering why you didn't stay at least to see the finished result of our efforts."

"I'll see the finished product when it's done. I mean, I don't know much about building stuff unless it's an engine. Put a motor on the table, I would've been there. Otherwise, I'd just get in the way."

"You could've helped me decide about what fixtures you wanted in the bathroom."

Puzzled by Ben's fussy mood, Ray shook his head. "A toilet, a shower, a sink, what's to decide?"

"Ray, you have no idea how many options there are for those things."

"Exactly. I've got no idea, so I left it up to you. You'll make it nice and make sure it works. I trust you. Hell, it's bound to be better than what we've got now. Sorry, but this whole outhouse business ain't cutting it."

"I appreciate that you trust me to do a competent job, Ray. However, I really wanted to do this together."

Ray shrugged, realizing he'd been selfish. That kind of thing, all the little picky details and shit, bored his socks off, but he'd expected Ben to do it all by himself. God, he sucked. "I'm sorry. You want me to call Stevie back and go over it now?"

"No, we did fine on our own. I modeled it after the bathroom we had in Chicago. You liked that one well enough, and I must admit a peculiar fondness for it myself."

"It was a kickass can, that's a fact. Still, I should've been there. I just figured you'd be able to get done faster without me slowing you down with stupid questions."

Ben sighed and leaned his shoulder against Ray's as he stared out across the water. "It's all right. I should've said something. You're not a psychic."

Ray rubbed his neck in frustration, thinking the conversation sounded way too much like the kind of things he and Stella might say. No way he wanted to go down that trail again, so he changed the subject. "Why'd you offer to pay before? I thought we decided that it was my turn to shell out for stuff."

"You would've paid me back."

"Still, this whole renovation deal is on me. It won't come close to what you paid for the land, but I've got to do something. I want this place to be mine, too."

Ben sat up straighter and stared at him like he'd farted or something. "Ray, what are you talking about? Of course this place is yours, too."

"But you paid for it."

"For us, not just for me. We're a couple."

"And couples split stuff. I don't want to be the girl here, Ben."

"The girl?"

"Yeah, you know, letting you pick up the tab all the time. Just because you've got more money doesn't mean I want you to carry me. I pay my own way."

Ben still stared at him open-mouthed and then shook his head. "You really baffle me sometimes, Ray."

"How's that?"

"Why on earth would you think that my paying for the land was a way to feminize you in the relationship? I assure it that was certainly not my intent."

"I know that. I'm just saying —"

"That you think I've somehow emasculated you or taken away your autonomy?"

Ray closed his eyes and weighed his options. He could continue like he was going, getting Ben all wound up or he could stop the bus before it drove over the cliff. Easy choice. "Sorry. I was just being d… u… m… dumb. Forget I said anything."

"But, Ray, if you really feel that way —"

"I don't, at least not like you're saying. It's just I was thinking about all those times with Stella when she'd buy stuff, expensive stuff, stuff that I couldn't afford because I was just a cop and she could because she's the one who made the big bucks. I don't want it to be like that with us. Even Steven, give and take, both of us putting in what we get out. That's what I want."

Ben's voice softened as he got it, took in the words, and got the whole picture of what Ray tried to say. "I want that, too. It's just that no relationship is ever completely balanced throughout. One of us might be giving more or taking more periodically. The end balance is what truly matters."

Ray scratched his head and then nodded. "Okay, that makes sense."

Ben reached over and took Ray's hand in his own as he made another point. "You should also know that in no way have I ever found you the least bit feminine. In fact, it's your masculinity that I find so attractive."

"You think I'm masculine, huh?"

"Oh, yes, very much so."

Ray let go of Ben's hand and hooked the back of his neck, drawing Ben's face closer as he whispered, "And me being manly, all sharp bones and angles, kind of whiskery, that turns your crank?"

"Indeed it does, Ray."

They kissed softly and then harder, each tongue touching and wrestling before Ray pulled back, short of breath. "You want to take this show on the road?" Ben's brow wrinkled as he tried to work out the code, so Ray gave him another clue. "Because we could stay here and do it, but I'm afraid the bugs would bite more than you do."

Ben's eyes brightened with understanding. "Oh, yes, the road it is."

Ray kissed him again and then said, "Let's hit it."

"Hit what?"

"The road."

"Why would we hit the road, Ray?"

Ray shook his head and patted Ben's face. "Cabin, naked, let's go."

"Understood."

Once back inside, Ray stripped off his shirt, realizing that Ben stood stock still, paused and watching from the doorway. "What?"

"I like to watch."

Grinning, Ray rested his hands on the top of his fly. "Yeah, I know. You like the peepshow thing. Want me to go slower, do a little number?"

"If you please."

So Ray took a couple of deep, calming breaths as he reined himself in, and slowed down the action. If Ben wanted to watch, take his time, he could go with that. Inside Ray's head, he counted, made himself listen to the numbers so that he paced himself. He toed off his tennis shoes, and then eased down the zipper, taking his time as he let his jeans drop to the floor. Kicking them over to the side, he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back, wearing only his briefs and socks. He licked his fingers and then trailed them down over his chest, tweaking his own nipple before he slipped a hand down past the elastic. He stroked a few times and his growing dick tented the white cotton knit of his shorts. Ben's breathing hitched and Ray grinned wider. "You like that, me playing with myself like that?"

"I do, yes." Ben's voice shook, raw and husky.

"You want me to do it some more?"

"Take your underwear off first. I want to see you."

Surprised that Ben actually said it out loud, asked for what he wanted, Ray stopped his hand. "You've got it." He raised his hips and got rid of the briefs and the socks, too, while he was at it. Feet on the edge of the bed, knees bent, he spread his legs so Ben got a good view. "This okay?"

"More than okay."

"Good, because I like it when you watch."

"I know."

Ray fondled himself while he talked, his own voice growing strained. "You doing this for me or for you?"

"Both, I would imagine."

"Be honest, Ben. You doing this because you like to watch or because you know I like you watching?"

"I confess, I really hadn't thought about your exhibitionism, Ray, but rather the voyeuristic gratification on my part."

"Big word freak. Say it in English."

"I wasn't thinking of your pleasure as much as I was thinking of my own. Selfish, I know, but the truth."

"It's not selfish to want what you want."

Ben stepped closer, his face all flushed, his eyes dark with arousal. It was like he hadn't heard Ray talking. He pulled one of the chairs closer and sat down, right where he could get a big eyeful. "Please, continue."

Watching Ben's face between his legs, Ray put one arm behind his head and used his right hand to stroke himself, taking his time, letting the tingle build, the current flow up and out from his crotch. Ben's tongue darted out across his lower lip and sweat beaded his forehead. Ray couldn't help himself and pumped harder. Ben reached out and covered his working hand with his own. "Not so fast, Ray. Please, go slowly."

"You're killing me here, Ben."

"Then, perhaps, I can be of service." He stood up then and stripped off quickly before kneeling on the floor at the end of the bed, his face still between Ray's legs. "Now, stroke yourself slowly. Don't be startled. I want to kiss and touch you while you're aroused."

Ray gulped in surprise. "There?"

"Yes, there." To accent his words, Ben kissed and then licked Ray's right inner thigh.

Trembling, Ray nodded, and did what Ben asked, stroking while Ben kissed his balls first and then right below it, right on the pucker. Head back, Ray closed his eyes as Ben used his tongue to tease the opening, his hands resting on the inside of both Ray's thighs. Sweet Jesus, Ray quivered all over, his balls drawing up and everything exploding bright white before sparks went off, a big swoosh of greatness over his skin. He jerked up hard just as Ben's tongue shoved inside him and Ray shouted Ben's name over and over, the sensation even better than Ben's blow jobs, and that, praise god, was saying something.

Ray's head fell back again, his eyes squeezed shut, his brain turned to goo as he worked hard to keep breathing. Nothing prepared him for the power of coming like that, with Ben's tongue in his ass. It just blew him away, his whole body suddenly raw with goodness and pleasure. Ray wanted to do it again, but at the moment, he'd settle for sucking in air before his heart gave out.

When he came back to himself, he found Ben beside him, kissing his face all over. "You like that."

"Hell, yes, I like that."

"I’m glad."

"Jesus, Ben, why didn't you tell me it could feel like that?"

"I think I did, but you weren't ready to hear it."

Ray closed his eyes again, fighting down the little spikes of panic in his chest. "I know. I just couldn't." Ray shuddered from the flash of the terrible memory and pushed it away. He didn't want anything to spoil the moment, to take away from the grace he'd been given. "Just the thought —"

Ben held him a little tighter and kissed his cheek before he whispered, "But, Ray, what happened to you had nothing to do with sex or feeling good."

Shaking all over, Ray turned and rolled into Ben's arms, his face buried against his chest. "I know that, too, it's just hard, you know, hard to feel normal again."

"I know."

Ray remained quiet, let the clutter of emotion drain away, let himself slide back to the warm comfort of Ben's arms. He snuggled in closer. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Eyes still closed, Ray wanted to sleep, to just drift off, but knew he still had unfinished business. "What would you like to do? Name it and I'll do it. Just let me get my wind back."

Ben petted his head and chuckled. "I believe it'll take more than a little wind, Ray. Just rest. Don't worry about me."

That did it, burned Ray too close to home. He lifted his head, suddenly pissed off. "Don't do that, don't say, don't worry about me, when I get off and you don't. That's not buddies."

Ben didn't react the way he expect, didn't just give in and let Ray do something to get him off. Instead, he smiled and shook his head while he teased Ray's hair with his fingers. "Buddies, lovers, whatever we are, I'm not keeping score of who climaxes and who doesn't."

"Well, you damn well should be."

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, Ray, why? I'm more than happy to give you pleasure and take mine later. I don't need a release every single time as long as I know you've been satisfied."

"Well, that's a new one."

"New what?"

Ray shook his head and lay back down, his whole body drained, his muscles too heavy to move much. His tongue still worked fine. "You don't want to get off right now, that's okay by me, but don't think for a second I'm not keeping score. You'll get yours, I promise. Just let me recoup a little, then we'll see who gives who pleasure."

"Ray, there's no score involved and this is certainly not a competition."

"Ben?"

"What?"

"Take a nap, get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Ben chuckled and Ray drifted off, listening to the rumble of his lover's laughter. The happy sound made Ray warm all over, like he'd just won the lottery or something.

They spent the rest of the night waking up off and on, making love, and messing up the sheets. By late morning, Ray lay there a bit dazed, not nearly ready to get up and start the day. Ben slept beside him on his belly, his dark hair either smashed flat or standing straight up. Ray petted down the cowlick, knowing how much Ben fussed with that one little spot, but it didn't do any good. It just stood up even straighter, sort of like giving Ray the finger for even trying. Ben snuffled into the pillow. "Ray?"

Leaning over, Ray kissed his cheek and then snuggled in close. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up."

"Not awake."

Ray grinned at that. "Talking in your sleep?"

"Apparently." Ben took a deep breath and then stretched before opening his eyes and draping an arm over Ray's waist. He kissed him gently and then closed his eyes again. "I’m certainly glad I don't have to report for duty today. I feel I would be rather remiss in any assignment I might attempt beyond a simple report."

Ray dipped his head and licked across Ben's nipple. He chuckled at the sharp intake of breath. "It's Saturday, so I don't have PT. We can wallow all day and night if we want."

"I believe we've already wallowed thoroughly last night."

"There are no limits on wallowing time, mister. We can wallow for as long as we want."

Ben hugged him closer and kissed Ray's forehead, his eyes closed. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For trusting me."

"I trust you with my life."

"Yes, I know, but —"

Ray caressed Ben's cheek and then gave him a morning kiss. "I like what we did, but I'm still not ready for the rest."

"I understand that, Ray."

They lay there several more minutes, just holding one another, Ray's mind drifting back over all the winning sensations in his ass that Ben caused with just his tongue and fingers. He shuddered and Ben squeezed him tighter to his chest. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. I’m just thinking, that's all."

Ben accepted that and didn't press him for details. Instead, he said, "Perhaps we should forego a trip into town today. Your leg has shown remarkable improvement. I thought we might go hiking."

"Hiking, like a walking around in big boots and carrying heavy packs for hours and hours kind of thing?"

"Well, yes. It'd be a wonderful opportunity to walk the property line. I'd love to show it to you and you could record the experience with your camera."

"I guess when you put it that way, it sounds okay."

"Good. I could pack a lunch, too, make a day of it as it were, just the two of us."

Dief woofed from the rug in front of the fireplace as if on cue. Ray laughed at his timing. "If Dief's really deaf, I'll eat your hat."

Ben grinned and shrugged. "Perhaps he does have some minimal hearing, but I assure you he's quite impaired on that score, or he certainly used to be."

Dief came over to the bed and planted his head on the edge of the mattress, making big puppy dog eyes at the two or them. He'd been out a couple of times in the night already, so he didn't need to go. He just wanted attention. Ray rolled over and gave him a good head rub as he spoke playfully in a kid's voice. "Not enough to keep him from hearing when he's being left out. Guess it'll just be the three of us, right, buddy?"

Dief yipped in approval and wagged his tail. "Ray, you spoil him terribly."

"Yeah, well, that's okay. Everybody needs a little spoiling sometimes, don't we, boy?"

Dief answered with a couple of barks. Ben shook his head. "No, I will not apologize. It wasn’t my intention to exclude you. I was just rather distracted, that's all."

"Stop fussing, you two. Jeez. I feel like a referee or something." He gave Dief a couple more pats and then sighed. "I'll be glad when we get the can built. I hate getting up and walking outside to take a leak."

"It won't be much longer now."

"Speaking of which, where are we going to stay for two or three weeks?"

Ben rolled on his side facing Ray, resting his head on an upraised hand. "I was thinking we should camp."

"Camp? You mean like sleep outside with tents and stuff? You serious?"

"We've done it before without the tent. It could be fun."

Not the least bit convinced, Ray complained, "That was in a backyard in Chicago, not the wilderness with hungry bears and no telling what else that can chew a guy's skinny ass off."

"This is hardly wilderness, Ray."

"What about the bugs?"

"We'll simply apply the repellant more often."

Ray didn't really want to camp for two or three weeks, sleep on the ground, fight off the ticks and fleas and whatever else crawled around, but he could tell by the gleam in Ben's eyes, that he really liked the idea. He tried one more time to make Ben think twice. "But we don't have any tents."

"We'd only need the one, Ray, and I'm sure we could borrow one from Chris and Eddie. Or if not, we could buy our own gear. It'd be a good investment for whenever we might want to go camping later."

"Like when I lose my mind, you mean?"

Ben frowned, like he just picked up the clue. "Are you saying you don't want to go camping?"

"Ben, no offense, but you know I'm allergic to camping outside with the bugs and the big sky."

"I know nothing of the sort."

"I told you the first time we met that I break out in a rash outside the city."

Ben snorted and shook his head in disbelief. "Ray, you're in a cabin in the Northwest Territories of Canada. I don't see any rash."

Trying not to grin, he teased, "Maybe you're not looking hard enough yet."

He ran a hand over Ray's naked hip and smiled, his voice husky again. "If memory serves, I believe I've looked rather carefully several times."

"Okay, so you got me. I fibbed. I don't break out in a rash, but I've got to tell ya, the idea of doing the tent thing just isn't spinning my wheels here."

"Spinning your wheels?"

"Yeah, getting me going, making me excited." Ray captured Ben's roving hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it and then holding it against his chest. "I was thinking more along the lines of renting a room in town or something."

"Like a motel room?"

"Motel, hotel, bed and breakfast, just a place with running water and a bed. I'm not as young as I used to be, so the idea of sleeping, or doing other things, on the ground, well, that's just not how I see getting through the first couple of weeks while they're building the rest of the cabin." Ben didn't look that swayed, so Ray played the trump card. "Besides if you start back to work next week, it's going to be hard to keep the uniform all neat and tidy. I mean, you've got to see the whole picture here, all the little details. I'm sorry, but camping would suck big time."

Ben cocked his head and studied him for a moment. "I see your point. I suppose I hadn’t thought the whole plan through carefully enough from your perspective. I just wanted…"

He sighed and lowered his chin, drawing Ray in, making him ask, "Wanted what?"

"It's nothing."

"Come on, tell me. You wanted what?"

"It's selfish."

"Selfish, schmefish. Tell me."

Ben reeled him in a little closer. "I wanted some privacy, just the two of us on our own land, living in the elements. It was just a silly, romantic notion. Renting a room would be much more practical and certainly more comfortable for you."

Ray kissed Ben's hand again. "Romantic, huh?"

Then Ben set the hook, caught him with no chance to get away. "But impractical. We'd have to locate away from the cabin while they were building, set the camp up by the stream. Again, it was just a whimsical idea on my part."

"Jeez, Ben, even your ideas of romance are freaky."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ray took a deep breath, knowing he'd regret saying it when his back went kaplooey after sleeping on permafrost all night. "You want to camp, we can camp, but that's only if something better doesn't come along, okay?"

"Agreed."

"Just don't blame me if you wake up and find Dief carried off by a swarm of big, hairy, blood-thirsty mosquitoes."

Ben beamed, happy again, ignoring the whole mosquito ploy. "It'll be fun, Ray. We can fish and hunt for our dinner." He squeezed Ray's hand as he whispered, "We can even go swimming if you'd like."

"I don't swim, Ben, you know that."

"You swim well enough, but I could teach you the finer points." He lowered his voice to a teasing whisper. "I've heard that sometimes it's easier when you wear no clothes."

Ray snorted and shook his head in amazement. "You want to go skinny dipping?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"You really are a freak."

Ben shifted over, pressing his naked body over Ray's. "As one freak to another, Ray, I wear that appellation proudly."

Ben's lips swallowed Ray's comeback line and by the time he finished working him over with that mouth, Ray didn't care if they camped out or slept in a hut somewhere in the middle of bug central, just as long as they were together and still able to mess around.

Ray did his leg exercises like a good, little rehab boy. Of course, if Ben hadn't insisted, he'd have been tempted to skip the whole ordeal. After packing up and moving out, they'd walked a couple of hours before Ray finally caved and called a timeout. He dropped his pack and stopped at the edge of the lake, making a T with his hands. "Break time."

"We still have quite a bit of territory to cover, Ray."

"How much land do we own anyway?"

"Quite a bit, actually, several miles square including the water rights on this side of the lake."

"Wow. Glad we don't have to mow."

"Mow?"

"Yeah, you know, mow like in mowing the grass?" Ray pretended he was pushing a lawnmower. "Anyway, it'll all still be there after we take a breather. I’m tired and my leg hurts."

Ben immediately put his own pack down and stepped closer. "I'm sorry, Ray, I didn't think."

Waving him off, Ray found a rock to sit on and looked out over the water. "It's okay. Besides, we've got plenty of time to check out the land. Nothing says we have to do it all in one day."

"True enough." Ray's makeshift seat wasn't big enough to share, so Ben found his own just a few feet away. As Ben scanned the area, his smile widened. "It's a lovely property, don't you think?"

"Lovely doesn’t cover it. I have to admit you did a good thing buying the place even if it was behind my back."

"I'm sorry about that, Ray, but I really didn't want to lose the opportunity."

"I know. I get that." Ray leaned forward and took out his camera, checking the settings with the telescopic wide angle lens. In his head, he framed out the scenery, lining up angles for the best pictures. Then he aimed and shot, taking his time, but talking while he worked. "So, how come Alan had all this land in the first place? I mean, I thought it was just a getaway cabin for vacation or something. Is he like a long lost heir or what?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what exactly?"

"From what Alan's told me, his great grandfather Arthur McClain staked the first claim here at the turn of the century. He hunted and fished a great deal. However, when he married, his wife didn't want to live in such isolation."

"History repeats itself, huh?"

"I suppose that's true in some regard. At any rate, he never sold the land, simply passed it to the next generation and then Alan's father passed it on to him. It was his father, Patrick, who made the renovations to the cabin that included the interior water pump and wood stove. Alan added the generator for the lighting."

Ray stopped taking pictures and propped the heavy camera on his thigh. "So why sell it now? I mean, if his family's had it for three generations, it seems like a shame to lose it. Did he need the money or something?"

"I don’t think it was about the money. He could have easily sold it for several times what we paid for it."

"Then why? You think he did it because of his feelings for you?"

Ben hesitated, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb. After a few more moments, he met Ray's gaze. "I didn't think so at first, but now I think that's quite possible."

"So, what changed your mind?"

"Alan confessed to his romantic feelings yesterday."

Oddly, Ray didn't get angry, didn't even feel jealous. He just nodded in acknowledgement and then shot some more film. "So, how's that make you feel, knowing he sold it because he had a thing for you?"

"I don't think that was the only reason, Ray, just a component of it."

"What's the other part then?"

"Alan told me he was afraid of developers, that he'd been offered a substantial amount even over the appraised value. He told me he sold it to me because he knew I'd keep it safe, be a caretaker as it were. He said his grandfather would approve and that he wanted to honor his memory."

"And you bought that?"

"Well, yes. I don't think he was lying about that part."

"But it wasn't the whole truth. You get that now, right?"

"Yes, but it doesn't alter the fact that despite the motivations for the sale, it's been to our benefit."

"No argument there." Ray finished off a whole roll, just sitting there talking, snapping pictures. He could hardly believe the richness of color splashed across the water, through the trees and the sky, shades of blues and greens he'd never seen before. It was like living in some picture book.

"Ray?"

He stopped shooting film and put the camera on his knee again. "Yeah?"

"Do you really think you can be happy here?"

"Don't I look happy?"

"Well, yes, today, but in the long run —"

"I'll be happy wherever you are, Ben." Ray put his camera back in his pack and stood up. He went over to Ben and pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist, as they stood side by side, staring across the water. "This is ours. It's not Chicago, not some little dinky rental, it's ours for as long as we want it." He turned to face Ben and cupped his face. "I want it as long as you want it. We're going to make this work, you and me, got that?"

Ben closed his eyes, rubbing his face against Ray's palm, his voice soft and a little shaky. "Got it." They kissed briefly and then rested their foreheads together.

After a few more moments, Ray patted Ben's cheek and stood straighter. "Good. Now, let's move on. I've brought like ten rolls of film with me."

"Ten?"

"Hey, you never know when that prize-winning shot will come along. I want to be ready."

Ben picked up his pack as Ray got his own gear together. "That's true, Ray, but to be prize-winning, one must, I believe, enter competitions. Do you plan to do that?"

"I might. Who knows? Hell, I might even see about sending some of my stuff in to that editor guy Cal knows. He keeps at me, so I figure that I might try it now that I've got my name back. Couldn't hurt. All they can do is say they suck, right?"

"Your pictures don't suck, Ray. They're wonderful pictures. I would imagine there are many venues for your talent."

"Yeah, well, it's just a thought. Might not happen."

"It will happen, Ray, if you want it. I have faith in your vision."

"Thanks, that makes one of us."

They moved together quietly for a little while after that, Ben in front, Ray right behind him. Reaching a small hill, Ben stopped and Ray moved to stand beside him. He took a deep breath and put his arm around Ray's shoulder. "It already feels like home, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah, it sort of does in a weird, this isn't quite happening kind of way."

Ben turned his head, his voice soft. "But it is happening, Ray. We're here together, starting a new life. O'Malley's dead, we've both got new jobs and a new home. It'll be wonderful."

"It's a wonderful life, huh? Let's just skip the wreck on the bridge, okay?"

"Wreck on the bridge?"

Ray snorted and shook his head. "Please tell me you've seen the movie."

"I'm afraid not, no."

"They show it every Christmas about ten times a day on every channel. It's the one with Jimmy Stewart where he thinks his life really sucks and he tries to kill himself by driving off a bridge, but this angel comes along and shows him what would've happened to a lot of people if he hadn't been there to make things right."

Ben's brow wrinkled. "And you say this is a Christmas film? It certainly doesn't sound like a very happy movie."

"It is and it isn't."

"What's that mean, it is and it isn't? How can it be both?"

"Well, it's sad when he's overwhelmed and shit, bad enough to want to pack it all in and kill himself, but it's happy at the end when he realizes he has a good life, a good family, a wife and kids, friends. It's like it took that really bad part to make him appreciate the good part."

Ben expression softened as he got it. "I understand that."

"Yeah, me, too. So, anyway, as good as it is now, we both know that it's going to be rocky from time to time, but that's okay. In the end, we're not driving off bridges and giving up. We're our own angels, right?"

"I don't know about angels, Ray. I do love you, but somehow the angel metaphor doesn't quite seem to fit either of us."

Ray wobbled his head a little and smirked. "You saying I'm more devil than angel?"

Ben kissed him as an answer and then pulled away. "I think we've seen enough land today, Ray."

"Yeah, yeah, me, too." Ray pointed in the direction of the cabin. "The bed's that way, right?"

Laughing, Ben headed down the hill with a much faster pace than before with Ray right behind him.

They slept, ate, and made love so much that by Sunday afternoon, Ray had beard burn in some seriously delicate places. He wore loose shorts and sat on the sofa, complaining. "You've got to start shaving more, Ben."

Standing at the door, drinking tea, Ben turned and cocked his head in confusion. "I do shave, Ray, every morning."

"It's not enough then, because my thighs and crotch are burning like crazy."

"Burning?"

"Yeah, as in your beard is like sandpaper sometimes, that kind of burning."

Ben turned bright pink and cleared his throat. "I'm so sorry, Ray. I had no intention of causing irritation. Why didn't you say something about the discomfort at the time?"

Ray snorted. "I think I might've been a little distracted by the blowjob and your tongue shoved up my ass. Go figure."

Choking on his tea, Ben coughed and sputtered as he turned even redder. "Ray, I —"

"Stop before you have a stroke or something. I'm not complaining, not really. I mean, I love everything you do, and believe me, when you're doing it, your beard is the last thing on my mind. But, I think you're going to have to start shaving twice a day if we keep going at it like we've been doing."

Ben came over and sat beside him, putting his tea on the coffee table. "I'll certainly be more careful in the future." He reached out and captured the back of Ray's neck, rubbing it and then releasing it. "It seems so strange though."

"What does?"

"The recent increase and fervor of our sexual activity."

Ray stretched out, resting his head on the armrest and put his feet in Ben's lap. He could talk and see Ben at the same time. His whole body ached, but in that good, well-fucked sort of way, something he hadn't had for a very long time, not since those early days with Stella. Even better, he knew this would last, that he'd never have to worry about Ben stomping on his heart or leaving him. It was all good, better than good. His greedy cock twitched just at the thought of staying together forever. "I know. We've never messed around this much, ever."

"Perhaps it's a response to our new circumstance."

"I think it's called a honeymoon, Ben. We didn't get one before, remember? Now we're making up for lost time."

Ben pondered the idea for a moment and then nodded with a smile. "That would certainly explain it."

Ray rubbed the heel of his right foot against Ben's thigh. "It's a good thing, right?"

"It most certainly is, at least for myself."

Capturing Ray's foot, Ben used both his thumbs to massage it while he talked. Ray loved that touch, the strong fingers, the release of any pressure from his whole body just from a little foot fiddling. "Yeah, for me, too. God, that feels great. Don't stop."

When Ben finished with the right foot, he did the other. After a few minutes, he asked, "Ray, I've been rethinking the camping situation."

"Yeah? How come?" Ray kept his eyes closed, relaxed and a little sleepy.

"A number of reasons really, practicality, convenience, and comfort. Practically speaking, it'll be difficult to maintain the uniform and report for duty in an appropriate fashion. As for convenience, if we stay in town, I can walk to work and you can have the Jeep to drive to your physical therapy before working at Cal's. Finally —"

"The comfort part, right, bed, bath, no bugs in the sheets?"

"Exactly. I'm sure there are rooms that can be rented by the week rather than by the day so the cost wouldn’t be prohibitive."

Ben stopped massaging Ray's foot and Ray opened his eyes. "So, what's the real reason you changed your mind?"

"It just occurred to me that you might have agreed to the arrangement just to appease me."

"So?"

"It seems entirely selfish on my part to allow such a sacrifice. I'd much rather go camping at some later point when it will likely be a pleasant experience, one of your choosing rather than an enforced situation that might result in you being uncomfortable for several weeks."

"Not that I'm disagreeing, but what about the skinny dipping party?"

"That section of the lakefront is ours, Ray. We can go anytime we want." Ben squeezed Ray's feet gently. "I just want us to be together. It doesn't matter to me if we camp or we stay in a hotel."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure, but I do appreciate that you were willing to do it despite personal reservations about safety. Though, I must assure you that there haven't been any bear or cougar attacks in this area for some time now. In fact, the last reported case was in —"

Ray tensed up. "Cougar? Did you just say cougar as in mountain lion?"

"Yes, but like I said —"

"Ben, you're kidding me, right?"

Smiling, Ben reached over and patted Ray's belly. "This isn't their normal range, but there have been sightings. Diefenbaker would alert us, should there ever be one in the area."

Suddenly, not quite so relaxed, Ray sat up and ran hand through his hair. "A deaf wolf going up against a bad ass cougar? What are the odds Dief would come out on top?"

"Not very good ones, I'd imagine. However, I wouldn't expect Diefenbaker to fight the cougar, just simply give us enough time to prepare and arm ourselves." He put a hand on Ray's shoulder. "I really didn't mean to upset you, Ray."

"I'm not upset. It just hit me, that's all."

"What has?"

"We're really out in the woods here, out where there are lions and bears and all kinds of animals that could have us for dinner."

"But they won't." Ben's hand rested on his back, staying there, all strong and sure, like there weren't creatures that could tear them both limb from limb in a heartbeat if they wanted.

Ray closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, pushing down the panic, blocking out the images of all those fucking nature films showing the predator-prey relationships on the Discovery Channel, the prey in this case having Ray's face plastered all over it.

"Ray? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine and dandy. Just wondering how many kinds of crazy there are."

"You're not crazy, Ray, any more than I am. We just choose to live our lives a little closer to nature, that's all. With proper precaution, our lives here should be no more dangerous than the streets of Chicago, probably less so given our penchant for finding psychopathic miscreants wishing to do us bodily harm."

The tightness in Ray's chest eased slightly as the words sank in. "You've got a point there. Won't be anybody shooting at us here or trying to run us over. We just have to make sure we don't end up being served up as the main course for Mr. Grizzly, that's all."

"Speaking of main courses, I was thinking perhaps we could go into town for supper. We could have a meal and ask Mimi about the best place for accommodation. I'm sure she's the best source of information on that score."

Breathing normally again, Ray nodded. "Sure, okay. That mean I have to put on underwear?"

"Not at all. If you want to go guerrilla, that's fine by me, Ray."

"Guerrilla? You mean commando?"

Ben smiled that little crooked grin, like he did when he messed with Ray's head. "Right, right, commando. I don’t know why I have such difficulty with the term."

"Yeah, especially when I'm so willing to give you a up close and personal demonstration."

Ben's eyes widened and got a little darker, his voice lower and huskier. "Demonstration, Ray?"

Standing up, Ray moved in front of Ben, his crotch at eye level. He put Ben's hands on the elastic of his shorts and then showed him the true definition of going commando Chicago-style.

Sunday afternoon must have been the one slow day for Mimi's during tourist season. They walked in and got a table, no problem. After they ordered, Ben asked, "Would it be possible for you to join us for a moment, Mimi? We need information and we thought, considering your standing in the community, you'd be the best person to ask."

"Sure. Let me put in the order and get your drinks. I'll be right back."

True to her word, she returned shortly with tea for Ben and some soda for Ray. Once she settled down, she sighed heavily. "Lord, it feels good to get off my feet. That rush right after church always wears me out." She suddenly stopped her complaint and then straightened up. She crossed her arms as she leaned forward on the table. "First things first, you're still coming to the picnic tomorrow, right?"

Ray nodded. "Wouldn't miss it. What do you need us to bring?"

"Nothing but yourselves. It's for Alan and you guys, too. You don't bring food or drink to a party in your honor."

Ray glanced at Ben who gave no indication that it was at all unusual behavior to show up empty-handed to a party. Not really comfortable with that idea, Ray explained his reservation. "Where I'm from, you bring stuff anyway."

Mimi shook her head, her tone tougher than nails. "Not here you don't. We do it all. You got a problem with that?"

Ray caved, didn’t even try to argue. His mum used to use that voice whenever she'd made up her mind about something. No way he'd win anyway. "Sure, it's fine by me."

Mimi patted his arm and smiled. "Good." She turned her gaze back to Ben. "So, what'd you need to ask about?"

"Ray and I are having Stevie Garvey renovate the cabin."

"That's great."

Ray chimed in. "Yeah, we're getting a toilet."

Ben added, "And a bedroom along with an outbuilding for storage."

"Stevie will do you proud, Ben. He's a hard worker and he's good at his job." She winked at Ray. "Bet you'll be glad not to have to go to the outhouse, too, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, you better believe it, especially this winter when it's a kazillion degrees below zero."

"Ray —"

"I know, I know, there's no such number and if it ever got that cold, we'd all be popsicles, I get that. I'm just saying, getting an inside can is a good thing."

"Understood."

"Hell, might have to have a can warming party."

Ben stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You want to throw a party for a toilet?"

"Well, not just for the toilet. We could have it for the whole house."

"Actually, that's not a bad idea, Ray. We could —"

Mimi jumped right in before they got carried away. "So, what did you need to ask me?"

Distracted from the idea of a housewarming party, at least temporarily, Ben laid out the situation. "We're not allowed to stay at the cabin during the renovation process. I originally thought we could camp for the two to three week period, but Ray wasn't happy, and rightly so, with that arrangement."

"I would've camped."

"But you didn't want to camp, Ray."

"I know, but I would've if that's what you wanted."

"I appreciate that, but —"

Mimi interrupted, all smiles. "This is fate, this is perfect."

Confused, Ben and Ray looked at her, at each other, and back at her. Ray asked first. "What's fate? What's perfect?"

"You needing a place to stay."

Ben frowned in confusion. "How so?"

"Okay, you know at Christmas how I told you that Susan's was going back and forth to Toronto with her job?"

Ben nodded. "It was after her husband, Glenn, died, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, and this summer, she's got the twins and Aunt Grace staying with her there while she finishes up her degree in nursing. So, this is just perfect. It's like it was meant to be."

Ray's mouth hung open a little as he listened. When she paused, his impatience got the better of him. "Okay, so she's not in town and all that, but what's that got to do with the whole fate business?"

"When Glenn died, the mortgage to her house was paid off." Mimi's voice choked up and her expression grew more serious, like she was seeing her daughter's pain in her head. "It was her first home with Glenn, so she hasn't had the heart to sell it and we haven't found anybody that we liked well enough to rent it to. It's empty right now. I don't even have to have the utilities turned on. Susan comes home some weekends, so we just left everything up and running just in case she or Aunt Grace wanted to visit. You could stay there. It'd be perfect."

Ben reached over and touched Mimi's hand, almost like he knew she needed some human contact, some little touch right at that moment. "That's a very generous offer, Mimi, but shouldn't you at least call Susan and check with her first?"

Mimi nodded and then stood up. She pulled a tissue from her apron pocket and sniffed into it. "Let me call her. You'd be doing us a favor by staying there."

Ray didn't get that part. "How would giving us a place to stay be a favor to you?"

"It's not good to let a house stay empty like that. A house needs people." She patted first Ben's shoulder and then Ray's. "Let me go in the back and call her. It'll just take a minute."

When she left, Ray shook his head. "It can't be that easy, just ask and, boom, we've got a house."

"It does seem to be rather too good to be true, but my grandmother always said, 'Don't look a gift mule in the mouth'."

Ray cocked his head, not sure if Ben was pulling his leg or not. "Gift mule?"

"It means —"

"I know what it means, but it's gift horse, not mule."

"Since when?"

"Since always. It's never been gift mule."

Ben shrugged, considering the words as he sipped some tea. "Perhaps it was her natural extrapolation of the fact that mules were far more prevalent as pack animals than horses at that time."

"You're making this up. She never said gift mule."

Ben's lips thinned into a small grin. "She might have."

"You're so full of it."

Ben's grin got wider. "Full of what, Ray?"

"You know what."

Before Ben had a chance to say anything else, Mimi came from the back carrying their food, moose steak for Ben, a regular hamburger for Ray. All smiles, she served up the good news. "She's more than happy for you to stay there. You should've heard her, she was thrilled. She said she'd call the phone company first thing in the morning and have the phone turned back on." After she put their dishes on the table, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. "Here. Take these. Go over and check it out. There's also a garage for storing your things during construction. It's yours, if you want it. There's just one condition."

Ben asked, "What's that?"

"You don't offer to pay rent. She doesn't want that and neither do I."

Stunned, Ray couldn't believe their luck and Mimi's generosity. "Just like that, you hand over the keys to the house and don't want any rent?"

"It gives me a chance to pay back just a little of what I owe."

Ray frowned, not getting what she was saying. "Owe?"

Mimi's voice suddenly shook as she stepped closer to the table, her hands on her hips. "Ben saved my life and my son's life. We wouldn't be here if he hadn't stepped in when he did." She held up a hand to stop Ben from interrupting or arguing as she continued, "You're his partner. You're both our friends. Friends help each other, or don't they do that where you're from?"

Put in his place, Ray picked up the keys, thinking of Turnbull, Welsh, and all his friends who'd helped them so much and who were still pitching in at a distance. "No, friends do the same thing in Chicago. Thanks."

Ben added, "We'll pay our share of the electric and phone service, of course."

"Sure, okay, you can do that." She relaxed and grinned again. "You can buy your own food, too. Being gone all summer, Susan refrigerator's pretty much bare. I cleaned it out myself right before she left. You'll need to do some shopping, but there's a nice little store just a few blocks away from the house."

On impulse, moved and unable to help himself, Ray stood up and stepped around the table. He grabbed Mimi by her shoulders and pulled her into a big hug. He kissed her cheek and then whispered into her ear. "Thank you."

She returned the embrace and patted his back. "You're welcome."

Ben stood up and followed suit, hugging the lady who just made their life a whole lot easier.


	3. Chapter 3

Bygones 3  
Lifeline: Canada  
by Grey  
Grey853@aol.com

Part Three

Ray stood in a quaint, country kitchen staring out the back door at a large, fenced-in back yard. Dief tracked around the bottom edge of the fence, nosing and sniffing around, checking out the new digs. "This is nice, real homey."

"It's certainly more modern than the cabin."

Ray turned, catching the tone of regret in Ben's voice, like he thought Ray liked the house in town better. "It's not as good as the cabin."

"Ray, you don't have to say that. I know you like the modern conveniences. Here you'll have them."

"And I'll have them after Stevie puts in the john at the cabin, too, and even better, it'll be ours. This is just a stopover, that's all. Just a place to hang your Stetson until it's finished."

Ben moved to stand beside him, his hand resting at the small of Ray's back as he watched Diefenbaker patrol the perimeter of the yard. "Perhaps I was too hasty before."

"Hasty how?"

"Perhaps I should have considered purchasing a house here in town."

"And why's that?"

"Well, it certainly would be more convenient this winter."

"Fuck convenience. It's a nice house, don’t get me wrong. If we lived here, I could handle that, but it's not our place. Our place is out in the woods where the bear and the antelope roam and stuff."

Ben smiled, his eyes soft and filled with amusement. "Ray, there are no antelope —"

"Shut up, Ben. I'm making a point here."

"Point taken. You like the cabin."

"Yeah, I do." Ray opened the screen door and they both walked out to the back deck. Ben leaned against the railing and Ray sat down on one of the chairs. Dief woofed a few times in approval of the yard and came bounding up, nudging his face into Ray's palm, urging him to give him a well deserved head rub. Ray obliged his furry friend while he talked. "In a million years I never would've guessed I'd end up here in Canada living in a cabin, but it feels right."

"Yes, it does."

They both sat there looking out over the lawn. It needed some mowing and trimming, but Ray figured he could do that. It'd be the least he could do, considering they were living there free and all. He'd have to check out the garage and see what Susan had in the way of a mower and weed eater. He used to cut the grass all the time for his uncle. Ray closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to think about those days, days when he had a mum and dad who didn't think he was some sick perv for loving a man. Fuck that. He had Ben, and that's all that mattered.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking about my mum and dad, wondering what they'd think if they could see me now."

"You could call them, let them know where you are and how you're doing."

Ray opened his eyes and shook his head. "They've got the cell phone number. They could call anytime they want. The phone works both ways, right? You hear any ringing?"

"No, but —"

"Then I don't want to talk about it. Sorry I brought it up."

Ben hesitated, but didn't let it drop. "Why did you bring it up?"

"Guess I was just a little mellow and a lot colic, that's all."

"Mellow and a lot colic?"

"Yeah, you know, how you get when you think about the past and wish that not everybody was a shit sometimes?"

Ben nodded as he got it. "You mean melancholy."

"What'd I say?"

"It's not important. What is important is that we have one another. The past can't be changed. However, if you ever decide to make the first move and call your parents, I'll support you in that decision. Perhaps your father will come to accept our relationship, given that it's now clear that it's not just some phase or infatuation that he assumed it to be."

Ray cocked his head in surprise. "Phase or infatuation? He said that?"

Uncomfortable, Ben tugged at his ear, not meeting Ray's gaze. "Unfortunately, he used those words, among others, to describe the situation, yes."

Suddenly pissed, Ray snapped, "When the fuck was this?"

"It was a long time ago, Ray, back when you were in the hospital before Christmas."

Snorting to himself, Ray stood up and paced the deck, Ben and Dief's eyes glued to him. "Son of a bitch."

"He is your father, Ray."

"Fuck that and who the hell cares? He doesn't act like a dad's supposed to."

"And how's that, Ray?"

"Like he gives a shit. Like he accepts me for who I am and who I love. I mean, is that so fucking hard to do? I don't think so. Hell, even a fucking ghost can do it, but not my old man, not Damien Kowalski, a guy who'd rather disown his own son than love a faggot." Tears stung Ray's eyes and he sagged back down into the deck chair, the temper racing his blood, his head pounding like a sledgehammer.

Ben came to sit down in the chair beside him, his hand covering Ray's. "You should tell him how you feel."

"Not going to happen."

"But —"

"Not… Going… To… Happen."

Ben squeezed his hand and released it. "Understood."

Angry at his own loss of control, Ray quickly wiped away a tear and then cleared his throat. "So, how the hell did we get on this subject?" He waved a hand before Ben answered. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. I don’t want to talk about my old man, not now, not ever. He made his choices. I've made mine. Right now we should be talking about what we need to do about moving in here until the cabin's fit to live in again."

Ben picked up the cue and rattled off a list of activities. "Well, we need to first ask Chris and Eddie if they would allow us to borrow their truck. That would save us quite a few trips to move our furniture and bags from the cabin. Then we need groceries. First thing tomorrow, we need to go to the bank for the check. Also, I finished the papers for your work visa and can drop those off at headquarters. There's also your PT. Then we have the party tomorrow afternoon."

"Wow, that might keep us busy."

"Indeed. Do you want to stay here tomorrow night, Ray, or at the cabin?"

"Well, if we bring the furniture, including the bed, we'd be sleeping on the floor at the cabin. Personally, I prefer the bed."

"Understandable."

"So, do you have to be at the site when Garvey starts the work on Tuesday?"

"I'd like to be, yes. I'd like to inspect the materials as well and take one last look at the specifications. Stevie has assured me that he's going to do his best to match the logs for the new addition to the logs that are already there."

Ray saw the century-old building in his head and whistled under his breath. "That'll take some doing."

"Yes, it will, but he says he can do it. He's buying those locally, so he thinks there shouldn't be a problem. In fact, he was quite adamant that he'd been wanting to do a project like this for sometime. He seems really excited about the challenge."

"And excited about working for you, too, I'll bet."

Ben stared at him an extra moment before he asked, "What are you suggesting, Ray?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm saying it flat out. The kid has a thing for you."

"A thing?"

"Yeah, like Alan had a thing, like Frannie had a thing, like how he has a thing for the Mountie that saved his ass."

Ben sat back, his mouth open slightly while he stared at him. After a few moments, he shook his head in disbelief. "You're serious."

"So?"

"So, it's ludicrous. He's just grateful that I helped him during difficult time. There's nothing romantic about his gestures."

"Yeah, right." Ray sat back, arms wrapped around his chest. "Trust me on this, Ben. The kid has it bad." He raised a hand before Ben protested. "It's okay. It's not a big deal. He knows better than to make a move."

"He knows better? Dear god, Ray, please tell me you didn't speak to him about this."

"No, I didn't speak to him. Didn't have to. We just came to an understanding. He took one look at me and about wet his pants. He knows better, got it?"

"You really are unhinged at times, Ray."

"So, I've been told, which reminds me, I think I'm going to take the disability."

Ben's expression grew even more serious. "You're sure?"

"Pretty sure, sure enough to fill out the papers. All they can do is say no, right?"

"Or yes, which is more likely. With the documentation from Dr. Reese and Dr. Collier, I would think it would be the appropriate response."

"So you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Ben reached over and took Ray's hands in both his own. "I do, Ray, for now at least. Perhaps at some later point, when things are less stressful and you've had a chance to settle in, that won't be the case. However, for now, I think it fair that you receive the benefits to which you're entitled."

"That a fancy way of saying you agree that I'm emotionally impaired and not fit to be a cop any more?"

"It's my way of saying I support you in your decision."

Ray nodded, and then pulled away, kind of numb, not sure how he felt about the whole business of being officially labeled too mentally lame to work the streets. He swatted the side of his leg to call Dief to follow. "Come on, Dief. Let's go check out the garage and see if Susan's got something to cut this grass while we're here."

"Ray?"

Ray stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

Smiling, Ray returned the favor. "I love you, too. Crazy, huh?"

Ben stood up and walked over, wrapped him in his arms, and kissed him with his own Canadian version of lovesick and crazy.

Monday morning started off way too busy to be healthy. They both went to the bank as soon as it opened and got a check for Stevie Garvey. They took it to his construction office in town, got a receipt, and learned way more than Ray ever wanted to know about Stevie's secretary, Gina's recent gallbladder surgery. After that, came the post office where Ray mailed his papers back to Welsh, certified and overnight. He wanted to get them there, start the process, and just stop thinking about the whole mess before he really went nuts.

Then Ray dropped Ben off at Chris and Eddie's while he went to physical therapy. After that, while Ben, Chris, and Eddie moved all their stuff to Susan's place and bought groceries, Ray stopped by Cal's to pick up the pictures he'd left to be developed on Sunday. As he walked in, Cal lifted a cup in his direction, but he wasn't smiling, not even close. He looked like somebody had slapped his wife and kidnapped his daughter. Ray's insides went tight at his friend's tense greeting. "Glad you're here. You need to see something."

"What's that?"

"Come in the back, I'll show you." Cal called to his son who was sitting at a computer out front. "Watch the desk."

"Sure, Dad."

In the back, Cal took him to the workroom and pulled out a box. "These are the pictures you brought in yesterday. They're great, Ray. I thought your wildlife stuff was good, but this is even better."

"Thanks, but —"

"But that's not what I wanted to show you." Cal reached over on his desk and picked up a bigger envelope. He pulled out a stack of enlargements and then got one of his magnifying glasses from another desk. Spreading the five pictures out on the table, he leaned over, and found something on one of the pictures. Then he handed the glass to Ray as he pointed to the spot. "What do you see?"

Curious about what had gotten his friend so worked up, Ray checked it out. As soon as he saw it, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "Shit."

"You see it?"

"Yeah. It's a guy with a rifle."

"A high powered rifle, Ray, with a scope."

"How the fuck did I miss that when I was taking pictures?"

"Wide angles don't pick up much definition head on, not like a zoom close up. He'd be easy to miss if you didn't know where to look, just sort of blend in to the background. Anyway, this guy's in five of the shots from five different rolls. He must have been there for a while, just matching your movements."

Ray sat down and used the glass to study each of the five pictures. He couldn't see the details of the man's face, but there was no doubt that he was looking through the scope across the lake in Ben and Ray's direction. Grasping for straws or any other excuse he could find, Ray asked, "So, you figure he's hunting something, maybe a moose or something?"

"It's not hunting season, Ray, not for any game that would need a gun like that." Cal pointed at the third picture, the clearest one. "And if he's hunting game, he wouldn't be aiming across the lake."

"Maybe he's after a duck?"

"There'd be no duck left if he blasted it with that thing."

Ray closed his eyes and shuddered, the whole déjà vu thing hitting him hard. No way did he want to go through that being a target thing all over again. Shit. "That's what I was afraid of."

"I started to call you last night, but —"

"I'm glad you didn't. I don't want Ben to know about this, not yet anyway."

Cal shook his head as he argued. "That's crazy, Ray. You have to tell him. You need to go to the police with this. That guy was aiming right at you two."

"But he didn't shoot, and even if he did, the lake was too wide at that point. Even a crack shot couldn't hit us from that distance, not with the wind like it was on Saturday."

"Doesn't mean he can't come around the lake and shoot you while you're asleep or something. Ray, the guy had a gun pointed right at you."

"I see that, Cal."

"Just wanted to be sure. You're not wearing your glasses."

"Funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny. I’m worried. Why would a guy be tracking you with a rifle?"

"Don't know."

"You sure?"

Ray's head snapped up, ready to be angry until he saw the concern plastered all over Cal's face. He took a big breath to calm himself before he spoke. "Look, it could be anything. There are hunters all over the place. It could be poachers or something."

"Could be. Could be something else, like some guy with a grudge from when you were a cop. You need to tell Fraser and you need to turn this in, have somebody investigate it. You can't keep this to yourself. Maybe the guy hunting you in Chicago didn't get the memo about you being out of the picture."

Ray rubbed his mouth with his hand, nervous as hell, his eyes glued to the pictures in front of him. Cal was right. It was serious. Maybe they'd all been wrong. The contract put out by O'Malley might still be active, might never have been cancelled. Shit. "Look, I'll tell Ben, but just not today. I'll tell him tomorrow after the party."

"That's stupid, Ray."

Ray didn't bother to check his anger. "You calling me stupid?"

"If you think keeping this threat from Fraser is a good idea, then, yeah, I am. He'd want to know." Cal changed tactics. "Look, what if I'd shown these to Fraser first and he tried to keep it secret? You be pissed, eh?"

Put like that, Ray had to admit that it was stupid to keep Ben in the dark. Fuck. Why couldn’t O'Malley just stay the fuck dead? "I guess you're right. I have to tell him. I just wish I could do it later rather than sooner."

"No use putting it off."

"Guess not." Ray put the pictures back in the envelope. "Can I take the magnifying glass, too? I'll bring it back."

"Sure, not a problem."

Standing up, Ray got his stuff, wondering how the hell he'd tell Ben that he might be a target all over again. Dread didn't quite cover it. Cal touched his shoulder and he about jumped out of his skin. "Don't do that. Jeez."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Just a little jumpy."

"I would be, too. So, how can I help?"

"You've done plenty, thanks. I might not have looked at these for days and by then it might've been too late. If this guy's coming for me, I need to be ready."

"You really think someone's going to try to kill you? I thought that whole operation was over."

"Yeah, me, too. Guess we were both wrong."

Ray drove back to Susan's house, gripping the wheel with both hands, fighting off a growing wave of panic. When he arrived, the garage door was still open and he saw all their furniture, including the bed, stored neatly in the back corner. He parked, got out, and slammed the door. When he went inside through the back door and into the kitchen, he called out, "Ben?"

"In the bedroom."

Ray dropped the pictures on the kitchen table and walked to the rear of the house to find Ben changing the sheets and putting their quilt on Susan's bed. "What's going on?"

"I thought if we were going to be sleeping here, it would be appropriate for me to change the linen."

Walking over, Ray drew Ben into his arms and kissed him briefly before he hugged him. "Good idea. Can't be messing up other people's sheets. That would just be rude, huh?"

Ben's arms tightened around him, like he had some kind of sixth sense, some kind of radar for trouble. "Ray? What's wrong?"

Ray kept his head on Ben's shoulder and hung on for all he was worth. He didn't want to look up and have to see his face when he broke the news about the guy gunning for him. So, he stalled. "You and the guys get everything moved?"

Ben took Ray by the shoulders and pushed him back far enough to see him. "Everything's moved, Ray. Now tell me what's wrong."

Ray sagged down on the bed, rubbing his face hard, trying to keep himself together. "I think the hit's back on again."

"The hit?"

"Yeah. I just picked up pictures from Cal and there are five shots with a guy with a rifle across the lake from where we were Saturday."

Ben stiffened, his voice strained. "Where are the pictures?"

"In the kitchen."

Ben didn't say a word, just left. Ray stayed put for another few seconds, but then got up and followed. Ben sat at the table studying the pictures, his face grim. Ray leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed, and waited. His stomach ached like crazy, all knotted, like he'd swallowed a couple of tons of burning rope. After a few minutes, Ben stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose, but didn't say anything. Ray couldn't stand it. He finally asked, "What do you think?"

"He must have been there all afternoon."

"Yeah, I figured, but he didn't take a shot."

Ben looked over at him. "The range was too far and it was windy. I'm sure that won't be a factor next time."

"What do we do?"

"First thing we do is call Chicago and the FBI, find out if there have been any changes that we should know about. Then we tell Inspector Hathaway."

"We don’t have any proof, Ben. It might just be a hunter."

"Oh, he's a hunter, Ray, but he's not after legal game." Ben slammed his fist against the table, his face all red. "I should have seen this."

"Seen what? Some guy all the way across a lake, who was hiding in the woods? Not even you could see that."

Ben ignored him and just kept fussing about his own failure. "You've been in danger all this time and I've been lax, letting you go out alone and unprotected."

Ray's hackles went up. "Letting me?"

"I meant —"

"I know what you meant, but you don't fucking let me do anything, Ben. We're in this together, remember?"

Ben came over and stepped closer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest that you couldn't take care of yourself, Ray. I'm just upset. We both are."

Ray relaxed a little bit as Ben drew him into a hug. "Yeah, okay, I get that. I just wanted this to be over."

"Not quite yet, but it will be."

"You don't know that. We don't even know who this guy is. I mean, why he's still hanging around when O'Malley's dead as a doornail? What's the fucking point of killing me now?"

"All good questions." Ben squeezed him and then released him. "I suggest we start finding answers as soon as possible."

Ray paced one of the conference rooms of the RCMP headquarters, one arm around his middle, the other rubbing his mouth. They'd made about twenty calls to Chicago and Washington and nobody knew a thing about a contract, not a peep, not a whisper. Either the Feds and the whole Chicago PD were in on it, or this guy was flying way under the radar. It was all just too fucking creepy.

In his head, Ray listed scenarios one after the other and realized that there were a hell of lot more possibilities than he really wanted to think about. As a cop, he'd made a ton of enemies over the years, some still in prison, some probably loose by now. There was no telling who had it in for him enough to want to risk crossing the border and hunting him down to take his best shot. A lot of guys took being put away personal, made it a point of going after the cop that made it happen as soon as they got out. Ray had been that cop in a hell of a lot of cases.

The door opened and Ben walked in, followed by Inspector Hathaway. When he'd met the guy earlier, he seemed on the ball, smart, no nonsense. He wasn't as gruff as Welsh, but he acted the same way, had that all business, get it done attitude. Ray respected that in a guy, especially when the guy held his partner's life in his hands.

Hathaway closed the door and motioned for Ray and Ben to sit. He put a folder on the table and joined them. "This is a puzzle to me, gentlemen. I've got no real answers, at least not yet."

Anxious, biting his thumb, Ray asked, "How'd the lab guys do with the film?"

Hathaway opened the folder and pushed a close up picture towards Ray. It was all fuzzy and he couldn't really make out the features. "Does he look at all familiar?"

"Hell, that could be anybody."

"Not anybody, Ray. We know he's Caucasian, between thirty and forty, has a medium build and has brown hair."

"Which describes about half the population of Canada."

"Not half, Ray. This at least gives us —"

"Gives us what? Nothing, that's what."

Hathaway cleared his throat. "If I may interrupt, things are not hopeless, Mr. Kowalski."

"Call me Ray. Mr. Kowalski's my old man."

"Ray, it is then. As I said, things are not hopeless, Ray. I believe Constable Fraser was going to say this gives us a starting point. We can check and sort through the airline manifests. We can get a list of names together to at least check to see if anyone might have smuggled in some kind of weapon."

"And what if the guy's Canadian?"

Hathaway and Ben both sat up straighter, eyes a little wider, like the idea never occurred to either one of them that the guy gunning for him might be somebody who didn't have to smuggle in a gun. Ben shook his head, dismissing the notion. "Why on earth would a Canadian want to shoot you?"

"He might be local talent, hired by somebody else to do the job. Don't tell me you guys don’t have shooters, because I know that's a lie."

Hathaway sighed heavily and nodded. "Unfortunately, you're correct. We do have local criminals who'd shoot you for a lot less than I'd like to imagine, especially if it was in American currency."

"Yeah, the economy sucks. Ask anybody. Somebody offers enough dough to take out a burned out cop, to make it look like a hunting accident or something, and nobody's the wiser."

"I'd be the wiser, Ray. I can assure you that's not going to happen."

"You can't promise me that. You can't guard me 24/7. Nobody can. And I'm not going to live in some box, either, some cage. I'm going to go on with my life, like I've been doing. I'm not going to live like some scared rabbit, Ben, I'm not. I'm done with that shit."

Ben touched his arm to speak, but Hathaway spoke first. "You won't have to live in a cage, Ray. Constable Fraser tells me you two have moved into town temporarily. That will make our jobs a lot easer."

Ben asked first. "How so?"

"Ray was a much easier target out on your land because there were a lot of woods for cover. The criminal's lost that advantage for now. I doubt seriously that whomever this person is, that he'll do any shooting in town. There's no reason to think that he'd be able to easily conceal a high-powered rifle during the day, either. Ray, while we investigate, you'll have someone with you at all times. At night, we'll put a patrol on the house where you're staying. By the time you move back home, I hope to have the criminal in custody."

Ray took a deep breath, satisfied that the guy knew what he was doing and talked like he had some sense. Still, Ray had questions. "What if you don't get the guy? What if this thing drags on for who knows how long?"

"Then we'll deal with that." Hathaway stole a glance at Ben and then focused back on Ray. "You're Constable Fraser's partner. While we take the safety of all our citizens seriously, we take an even more diligent approach to protecting one of our own."

"One of your own?"

"You've married into the force, Ray. We'll protect you as if you were one of us."

Ray gulped and Ben flushed a deep pink. Ray hadn't realized that Hathaway knew the whole picture, but now that he did, he thought about how different it was here than in the States, how it didn't matter that Ray was a guy. He was married to a Mountie and that's all that mattered. He nodded, relaxed a little, and stood up. He held out his right hand and Hathaway took it. As they shook, Hathaway gave him his promise. "We won't let anything happen to you. Just give us a chance."

"You've got it."

"We should forego the party, Ray."

"Forego?"

Ben leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed. He was in stubborn Mountie mode, normally a good look, but one that just pissed Ray off more than anything at the moment. "It's not safe to attend. We should call Mimi and give her our apologies."

"Are you nuts?" Ray shook his head in frustration as he went to the fridge and took out a soda. As he popped the top, he argued, "Mimi's been planning this thing for days. She's probably spent a small fortune for the food and stuff already. We can't not go."

"It would be terribly impolite, I know, but it'd be an even greater worry if someone should try to shoot you in the middle of the festivities."

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that, Ray."

"Look, this guy's probably a sniper, some guy who shoots from long range. Where's he going to hide while he takes a shot? It's all open land around her place."

"We don't have enough evidence to support such a conjecture, Ray. He might have been using the scope of the gun merely to study us. That doesn't mean he's restricted to a long range shot should he choose to come after you. He could just as easily try a different approach."

"Another reason to go to the party."

"How so?"

"The party's for Alan and us. It'll be full of all the people he knows and people who want to welcome us to town, right?"

"True."

"So if some stranger crashed the party to whack me, somebody would notice his ass. The whole scene's going to be crawling with cops and ex-cops. It'll be safer than holing up here and worrying about it the whole time, worrying he's going to shoot through a window or sneak in."

"He'll hardly be able to sneak in with Diefenbaker on watch, Ray."

Ray gulped down half his drink before he made up his mind. "We're going, end of discussion."

"So it would seem."

Ben stared at him, his arms still crossed, looking more stubborn than ever. Ray put his drink down on the table and stepped closer. He placed both his hands on Ben's shoulders, his voice softer. "It'll be okay. This doesn't change anything, at least not for today. We're going to go and have fun."

"Fun? That's going to be a bit difficult, Ray, since I'll primarily be concerned about you being murdered."

"I know, but I'll be armed and Chris said he'd be there, too. The guy's almost as good as you at being eagle-eyed. He'll spot something if it's hinky."

Ben relaxed slightly meeting Ray's determined gaze. "Chris is rather good."

"Yeah. Not as good as you, though."

"You don't have to say that, Ray. My ego's not quite that fragile."

"Fragile or not, it's the truth." Ray leaned his forehead against Ben's and closed his eyes. "Nobody's as good as you."

Ben's arms wrapped around him, the hug something he needed. Ray wanted to pretend that the threat didn't matter, that it didn't bother him a bit. Of course, he could try to lie to himself, but not to Ben. Ben knew him better than that. He whispered a promise into Ray's ear. "I'll protect you, Ray. I love you."

"Love you, too." Ray lifted his head and met those bluer than blue eyes. "Now, let's go to that party and try to have a good time."

When Ray was sixteen, Paulie Kaufman's parents went out of town for the weekend. So Paulie, being Paulie, had the brilliant idea to throw a little party, just him and about five or six of his closest friends. Problem was, his friends all had big mouths, because the word spread like wildfire. Kids were showing up who didn't even go to their school. Teens of all shapes and sizes arrived in droves, all bringing enough booze to get the ball rolling and keep it going. The whole thing exploded into more kids than one party could hold. Paulie got grounded through most of the eleventh grade, but he was a legend just the same.

Ray wanted to look around for Paulie when he walked into Mimi's backyard because it looked a lot like that night without the booze and loud music. Of course, instead of drunken teens, this party was packed with grown ups, lots of kids, crying babies, barking dogs, even a couple of yowling cats Ray didn't remember from last time they'd been over. Dief was already having a blast running around like crazy.

Ray scratched his head, wondering if they'd come to the wrong place or what. "Jeez, who are all these people?"

Mimi came up, all out of breath, and hugged them both before she got a chance to answer. "Friends and family and then some. The whole thing just snowballed and there's really not enough room here. Hope you don't mind, but we've decided to move the party to the park a few blocks down the road. The weather's so gorgeous and it'll be perfect."

Chris showed up out of nowhere, Eddie right beside him, signaling to Ben to let him handle it. "It's not a problem, Mimi. Alan's already set up the grills over there and Eddie's going to take all the coolers."

"Thanks." She ran a hand through her dark hair, her face flushed with excitement. "I hope there's enough food."

Eddie chimed in. "Don't worry about it, Mimi. We can make a food run if we need to. For now, just go on down and we'll bring these two with us."

"You're sure?"

Eddie nodded and shooed her away. "Go on now. Jeremy's with Cal and his crew."

"Thanks." She waved and talked over her shoulder as she walked away. "I'll see you all there."

As soon as she was gone, Ben asked, "I'm not so sure going to the park is a good idea. Here there's at least some sense of safety. There, it's all out in the open."

Chris stepped a little closer so no one could overhear. "It's not a bad space. Only a few trees off to the side, but I plan to keep watch anyway. It should be okay."

Ben shook his head, still not convinced. "Should isn't good enough."

Ray rubbed his temples with his fists, about at the end of his rope. "Just stop, Ben. It's okay. The park's fine."

"Ray, it's not worth the risk. There are too many people here. If this man does shoot, he could injure not only you, but others as well. We should leave."

"We're not leaving."

"Ray —"

"I said we're not leaving."

Chris and Eddie remained quiet, but Ray sensed their tension. They'd never gotten a full dose of overprotective Mountie before, not even when they were watching the cabin. Very few people ever got to see this side of his partner, which was pretty much a good thing since it wasn’t exactly his best side.

"Ray, I don't know what you think you're trying to prove by going through with this, but it's not necessary."

Ray lifted his head and spoke to Chris and Eddie first. "You guys go on. We'll catch up."

Eddie asked, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. See you in a little bit."

As they walked away, Ray turned to Ben, standing only a few inches away. "Just for the record, I'm not trying to prove anything, not to you, not to me, not to anybody. I'm just fed up with this whole business. I'm not going to let some wacko run my life."

"And what about my life?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what happens to my life if something happens to you?"

"Oh, shit, Ben, don't play that card."

"What card?"

"That guilt card, that whole do it for me because you love me thing. You know I love you, but I'm not going to keep hiding. I'm just not. If something happens even after all the precautions, then there's nothing anybody could do."

"That still doesn't answer the question."

Ray put his hand on Ben's shoulder, his voice low. "Listen. We do this party. Nothing's going to happen, not now, not with you and Chris and half the fucking RCMP here to watch our backs."

Reluctantly, Ben unfolded his arms and began to speak, only to be interrupted by a redheaded woman dressed in tight jeans and a white T-shirt about three sizes too small. "Constable Fraser, I'm so glad you could make it. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to come to your own welcome party or not."

Ben stiffened and cleared his throat as he acknowledged the woman. "Constable Wayman."

"You remember my name. That's always a good start."

Instead of turning all pink and flustered like he usually did when a woman made an obvious come on, Ben wrapped his arm around Ray's middle and pulled him even closer, hip to hip. "I'd like you to meet my partner, Ray Kowalski. Ray, this is Constable Saundra Wayman."

Ray held out his hand, but Saundra took an extra moment to take it. When she did, they shook hands, but she was still looking at Ben. "Did you say partner?"

Ben nodded and then did something he rarely did in public. He turned Ray's face and kissed him right on the mouth, long and hard, so there'd be no mistake about their relationship. Then he grinned that big Mountie smile that lit up his face like a kid's mug on Christmas morning. "Indeed, I did. We were married just recently."

The woman literally gulped, but being the real Mountie she was, she recovered quickly. "Congratulations. I'd heard rumors, but I hadn't realized that —"

"That what? They were true?" Ray couldn't help himself. He slipped his arm around Ben's waist, too, so that they stood there, wrapped together, a united force. "Well, yep, they are. Just two old married guys, that's us."

Her mouth opened to speak, but then she closed it, recovered her composure and gave a genuine smile. "It's so nice to see newlyweds acting like newlyweds. It's so romantic." She lifted her glass in a toast and said, "Here's to many happy years together." She took a sip and then motioned to the other side of the yard. "I need to grab my stuff. I hear we're moving to the park."

Ben relaxed his grip and nodded. "Yes, we heard that as well."

"Better get a move on then, because they're choosing up teams for volleyball already." She walked off, talking over her shoulder. "I've got dibs on Constable Morton. He's the best server in the league."

As she headed out of the backyard, Ray elbowed Ben in the ribs. "Hear that? They've got a volleyball league."

"I've never played volleyball, Ray."

"You're kiddin'."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"Then it's time to learn." He grabbed Ben's hand and pulled him in the direction of the Jeep. "Come on. Let's go."

As they went to the car, Ben spoke quietly. "You play, I'll watch."

"Ben —"

"On this, I'm adamant."

"Adamant, huh?"

"Absolutely resolute."

"Stubborn, you mean."

"Steadfast."

"Stubborn."

"All right, stubborn, but if you play, I'm standing watch."

"Okay, then, I'll let ya."

"Good."

"But when I finish, you play, okay?"

"If you insist."

"I do insist. This league thing could be just the ticket."

"Ticket?"

"To getting involved, Ben, to being part of something outside the job, part of the community. Plus, it'll be good exercise."

"What about your leg?"

Ray patted his thigh and shrugged. "Seems to be doing just fine."

"Still, it might be a bit of a strain."

"Well, if it is, then I'll stop and play something else."

"Such as?"

"Whatever they've got."

What they had was a whole bunch of games, horseshoes, croquet, volleyball and twister, not to mention some chess and checkers for those who just wanted to sit around and shoot the breeze. On top of all that, they had enough food and drink to entertain an army, which they pretty much had, if they counted all the Mounties who'd shown up. Ray estimated at least a hundred adults with about half as many kids and pets. He'd already been introduced to most of them. Funny thing was, as bad as he was with words, Ray was really good with names. Maybe it was the visual thing, how he put the name with the face in his head and just sort of stored it there like he did when he was a cop. Only this time, instead of remembering crooks' names, he was storing away the names of Mounties Ben would work with, their wives and kids, even their dogs.

Ray had to admit that everyone seemed really friendly, offering all kinds of advice about settling in and getting into the swing of Yellowstone. The whole time they gabbed and did the meet and greet thing, Ben never got but a few feet away, making his own conversations, but keeping an eye on Ray at the same time. Off to the side, Ray saw Chris Frame pretty much being the watch dog, keeping to himself, pacing around the perimeter of the park. Every now and again Alan or someone else would join him or take him something to drink or eat, but then he'd go back to guard duty, alone and keeping an eye out for trouble.

Ray's leg gave out after the first game of volleyball, so he and Ben went over, got some food, and found a picnic table off to the side by themselves. Despite the crowds, most of the people stayed in small family groups to eat. Eddie came over and joined them. "Sorry about the leg, Ray."

"It's okay. It's not a big deal. I should've known better than to spike the ball like that."

"Yeah, but we won."

"Yeah, we did." Ray grinned, happy that despite his leg cramping up, he'd made the winning point. Go, Ray. He loved winning, loved it even more when he got all the pats on the back and words of encouragement from teammates. "Maybe after the leg heals up, I'll join the league or something."

"That sounds good."

Ben wasn't eating or joining in the conversation. He was just sitting there scanning the area, so Ray kicked him under the table. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"You know what. Eat. Then you can go spell Chris or something."

Still keeping his eyes peeled, Ben ate, but still stayed clammed up tight.

Eddie picked up his glass and motioned toward Ray's. "You want some more Coke?"

"No, I’m fine." As soon as Eddie left, Ray nudged Ben's foot again. "Ben, relax."

"I can't."

"Then at least pretend to relax."

Ben frowned, his head tilted as he processed the request. "How does one pretend to relax, Ray?"

"The same way you pretended to be interested when Thatcher used to make you do all that shit work at the Consulate. You just put on a show."

"I'll try. I still have a really bad feeling about this, Ray."

"Yeah, well, join the crowd."

They ate in silence until Eddie came back with Jeremy, Mimi's son. "Look who I found."

Jeremy waved at Ben and put his loaded plate down with the other. The kid was all smiles and energy, all beaming bright and right at Ben. "Hey, Constable Fraser."

"Hello, Jeremy."

He stopped smiling as he stared at Ben. "You look sad. Aren't you having a good time?"

Ben stole a glace at Ray and then smiled at the boy. "I'm fine, Jeremy. It's a wonderful picnic. Your mother has done an outstanding job of organizing it."

Relieved, Jeremy ate a potato chip and nodded. "Yeah, she let me help make some of the food, too."

Eddie prompted, "Yeah? What food was that?"

"I got to help with the barbequed moose haunch."

Ray couldn't believe it. "Moose haunch? Is that what that big thing is over in the pit?"

"Yep. I helped cut it up and made the marinade. It's been soaking since last week over at the diner. I went over every day and turned it, made sure it was soaking really good."

Ray tried not to throw up right then and there. He took some of his own advice and pretended that he wasn't freaked out by the thought of eating Bullwinkle. "Moose haunch, huh? Go figure."

"Yeah, it's really good, but it's not done yet. Another couple of hours and it'll be just right."

Ben praised the boy for a job well done. "That's delightful, Jeremy. Your culinary skills are remarkable for one of your tender years. Perhaps you'll be a chef one day."

Jeremy beamed with pride. "Thanks, but I'm going to be a pilot. That's all I ever wanted to be."

For the first time, Ben actually seemed like he was having a good time. "Have you made any more of your model airplanes since Christmas?"

Jeremy's face brightened, more than happy to share his hobby with his friend. "Yeah. I've got my favorite one over at my mom's table. I'm going to try to fly it later. You want to go see?"

When he hesitated, Ray shoved his arm. "Go ahead. Go have fun. Eddie and I will stay right here."

Ben nodded and then got up. He followed Jeremy across the park to the other table. Eddie turned to Ray. "He's kind of freaked out, huh?"

"Yeah, you might say that."

"Not without reason."

Ray drank his Coke, but it suddenly tasted dull, kind of flat and all the ice was gone. "I think I need another one of these after all."

Eddie jumped up before he could stop him, grabbing his cup. "I'll get it. Be right back."

Eddie was only a few feet away when Ray turned to see Ben's dad sitting across from him, his face more grim than he'd ever seen it. Ray's blood ran cold. "What's wrong?"

"Find Benton. Now!"

The words snapped Ray to attention. He got up and ran toward his partner. As he closed in, Ray saw the red laser dot on Ben's back. He screamed the warning and lunged at the same time. "Ben, get down!"

Just as their bodies collided, Ray heard the pops. A long burn hit Ray's upper arm as something slammed against his left temple. He saw stars and the world went sideways. Ben grunted as his body jerked hard against Ray's chest. Ben hissed his name in a choked whisper. "Ray?"

The world exploded into chaos, a mixture of screams, shouts, and gunfire. On the ground, his body covering Ben's, Ray couldn't breathe, couldn’t take in enough air to keep going. His vision went grey all around the edges as hands pulled him away from Ben. Ray struggled, but didn't have the energy to fight off the men dragging him away and then holding him down. Lying flat on his back, he saw Ben on the ground, face down, blood covering his left shoulder and most of his back.

Ray tried to move, tried desperately to go to Ben, but couldn't lift a finger or his head. He couldn't even speak as he saw Chris Frame lean over Ben, pressing a big towel against his back, frantically working to stop the bleeding.

Alan came into view, saying Ray's name, asking him questions Ray couldn't answer. The man's lips moved, but Ray heard no sound. Closing his eyes, Ray shuddered, cold and tired, and knowing that if Ben didn't make it, nothing much mattered.

Ray's eyes opened wide and he found himself standing on a snowy cliff, the wind howling and the wild call of an eagle above him. Ray shivered, the icy sleet pelting and freezing his skin. Beside him he heard a familiar voice. "It wasn't your fault. You mustn't blame yourself."

Ray turned and lashed out at the ghost. "Where the fuck were you? Why warn me and not Ben?"

Bob Fraser didn't even complain about his cussing for a change, just tried to explain what happened. "I couldn't get there in time."

"Couldn't get there? What's that mean, couldn't get there? You got there for me."

"I was with Buck. I didn't realize the danger until it was almost too late."

For the first time, Ray noticed the drastic change in Ben's dad, the nearly transparent image that had once been so solid was almost too pale to see. Ray could hardly form the words, but forced himself to ask. "Was it too late?"

"He's not here, so you kept the worst from happening."

Ray squeezed his eyes shut, keeping his tears in check, but just barely. "But I'm here. Does that mean —"

"No, you're not dead, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then why am I here?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Not sure?"

"Look, Son, this being dead business is a lot more difficult and complex than some people might imagine. One thinks he knows the rules and then suddenly something like this happens. Some lunatic tries to kill my only son and I can't even get Benton's attention to warn him."

"But I don't understand. How'd you get mine and not his?"

"Benton was so preoccupied, he couldn't see or hear me. It was damn disconcerting to say the least."

"But you did try, right?"

"Of course I tried. As soon as I realized there was danger, I came right away. It's just that recently, I haven't been quite myself."

"What's that mean, not yourself?"

"One hates to admit these things."

"What things?"

"I've felt a bit weak lately, not quite as alert as before. It's like my ability to know things, to understand what Benton's thinking is fading somewhat. It feels strange, like I'm disconnecting from his life somehow. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't."

"You think that's why you showed up late to the party?"

"That could well be, but I'm not sure."

Ray rubbed his face with both hands, surprised to find that his skin felt slick and smooth, not whiskery like his own face at all. He didn't want to think if that meant anything or not. All he wanted was for Ben to be all right.

"Will he be okay?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it?"

"Don't play games with me, old man."

"Old? I'm dead, Son, not old. There's a difference."

Frustrated, Ray snapped, "Look, just tell me what you know. Is he okay or not?"

"He's still alive, if that's what you're asking. Other than that, I can't say."

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"Why am I here?"

"Why are any of us here?"

Ray dropped his head in his hands, shaking with frustration, cold, and anger. "Just let Ben be okay."

"It's not up to me, or you, for that matter. It's entirely up to Benton."

Ray's head jerked up. "Then he'll be okay. If it's up to Ben, then he'll be fine, no problem."

"He was shot in the back, Son, and not for the first time, I might add. Of course, there are going to be problems. Still, he's breathing and he's got you. That certainly counts for something."

Ray hugged himself tightly, sick to his stomach at the memory of Ben on the ground and bleeding, all because Ray wanted to go to the fucking party. "He might be better off without me. I'm the one who got him into this mess."

"Never believe that, Son. This whole business wasn't about you."

Ray stared at the ghost in confusion and then he remembered. "The laser was on Ben, not me."

"That's right. You were never the target."

"But why? Who'd want to shoot Ben?"

Before he got an answer, Ray's foot slipped on the ice, his body tilting sideways and twisting into a big open space as he fell and kept falling. He jerked up, screaming out Ben's name. Firm hands grabbed him and kept him from jumping out of bed. "Calm down, son. You'll be fine." Ray settled back against the pillow, Dr. Egan's hand on his arm.

Winded, Ray asked, "Ben? How he is?"

Dr. Egan's solemn face got even darker. "He's in surgery."

"Will he be okay?"

"He lost a lot of blood. His heart stopped twice, but right now, he's holding his own." Egan didn't move away from the bed, his voice tight. "He's in the best of hands, Ray. All we can do is wait and pray for the best."

"But how bad is it? I mean, how much damage was there, besides losing the blood, I mean?" Ray saw Egan's eyes flicker as he debated with himself about how much he should tell. Ray pushed harder for an answer. "Look, I have to know, okay? Bad or not, I have to know."

"All right, but keep in mind, he's being cared for."

"I got that. Now tell me."

"The bullet just missed the heart. In fact, the bullet that hit your upper arm is what went through his chest. It nicked an artery and caused a lot of muscle damage."

"Fuck." Ray closed his eyes, the image of his partner bleeding and gasping for air not something he could block out. "How long before we know?"

"He's been in surgery three hours now. We should know something soon." Egan's voice changed, got a little lower and softer. "Try not to worry, Ray. I know that's easy to say and hard to do, but Ben's a fighter. He's vital and fit, far fitter than most people a lot younger. I have faith that he'll beat this."

"Faith is Ben's department, not mine."

"Then I guess you'll have to be his stand in until he's back on his feet, eh?"

Ray wanted to open his eyes, argue the point, but his head hurt too much all of a sudden, like somebody just pounded his brain into mush with a big flat hammer. "My head hurts."

"It's no wonder. You were shot in the head."

Ray did open his eyes then, not sure if he'd heard right. "What?"

"The bullet actually hit your skull but bounced off. I know Ben's called you a hardhead before, but it would seem it's harder than any of us imagined."

>From the throbbing just behind his eyeballs, Ray didn't doubt that he'd been shot in the head. It felt like the bullet was still rattling around in there somewhere. "So, the bullet bounced, huh?"

"Remarkably, it did. You were shot twice, once in the head, once in the arm, neither of which did a lot of damage. You've got a concussion, but other than that, you're doing very well. I'd say you were a very lucky man, Ray Kowalski."

Thinking about Ben in surgery fighting for his life, Ray shook his head. "Don't feel lucky. Won't feel lucky until I see Ben up and around again."

"That might be a while, Ray. There's going to be quite a recovery time after surgery. We still don't know the full extent of the damage."

"So, can I like get out of here now and go wait for him to come out from under the knife?"

Egan gave him a strange look, like the ones Collier and Reese used to give him when he said something they thought was really off the wall and crazy even for him. "Ray, you've been shot twice. You're not leaving this bed just yet."

"But you just said —"

"Yes, that the bullets didn't do much damage, but that was a relative statement. I didn't mean for you to think that you can just get up and leave. You can't. You need to stay at least overnight for observation."

"I can do that in the waiting room."

"No, you'll do it here." Before Ray could say a word, Egan held up a hand. "Listen to me, Ray, and listen carefully. You need to rest. You're going to have to be there for Ben and you can't do that if you fall over dead from a brain hemorrhage, now can you?"

Reluctantly, Ray gave in. "I guess you've got a point. But you've got to promise that just as soon as —"

"I will. I promise. As soon as I can, I'll let you know his condition." Egan petted his shoulder. "Now, Inspector Hathaway is outside. He needs to talk to you. Are you feeling up to that? I can tell him to wait."

"No, no, I'll talk to him."

"All right, but no more than a few minutes. Then you sleep."

"Sure, sleep, like that's going to happen."

"Ray —"

"Go on, get Hathaway. I've got questions, too."

As soon as Egan left, Ray pushed the button on his hospital bed to bring his head up a little higher. The world spun a little bit and settled. Eyes closed, he steeled himself for finding out who the hell shot his partner.

"It must be a family curse or something."

"Family curse?"

"Yeah, a Mountie killed his old man. Now another one tries to kill Ben."

Hathaway nodded in understanding. "Ah, yes, I remember, but Constable Fraser's not dead yet. Don't count him out just yet."

"I'm not." Ray blinked several times, trying to focus, his vision all kind of blurry. "So, this Norman guy, he confessed to everything before he kicked off?"

"Kicked off?"

"Died, bit the big one, bought the farm. He confessed, right, and now you're going after that prick Bullweather?"

"Well, we've certainly got enough for a full investigation. I've sent everything we know to the Commissioner."

"Commissioner? He's like your head guy or something, right?"

"Yes, he is, but keep in mind, Joshua Bullweather is a Superintendent and not without resources. Norman implicated him in the assassination attempt, but the Commissioner needs to know what we know so that we can actually bring Superintendent Bullweather in for questioning."

"Can you do that, bring him here for questioning? He's in Ottawa right now and that's like a different state or something. You guys have extradition?"

"It's a different province, but we all cooperate. I'm sure that's not going to be a problem."

Ray sensed Hathaway holding back, not telling him something. "What is it?"

"What's what?"

"What's the problem? You've got the goods, the confession of a dying man, right? So why the look?"

"What look?"

"Come on, Hathaway, I've got a headache like you wouldn't fucking believe. I don’t have time for dancing."

Hathaway rubbed the back of his neck, his face a lot more solemn than before. He didn't even pretend not to understand what Ray was asking. "I won't kid you. Superintendent Bullweather's from a very wealthy and influential family. Even if we have enough to arrest, it's still going to be difficult to convict. In addition, I'm not sure making his motive public will do your partner any favors."

Ray saw red and it had nothing to do with his concussion. "Ben was the fucking victim. He was just a wet-behind-the-ears kid for fuck sake."

"I know that. I'm just trying to warn you that Bullweather might turn that around and use it against Constable Fraser. He can afford some very talented lawyers."

"Well, fuck him. If he sent this Norman guy to kill Ben, then he deserves to go to prison. I hope he rots there."

"You've got no argument from me, Ray, none whatsoever. I just thought I should apprise you of the situation."

Ray closed his eyes, his head pounding worse than before. The lights kind of flickered and everything glowed around the edges. It all made his stomach heave. He took several deep breaths to settle his belly before he looked at Hathaway again and asked, "What about Chris Frame? Is he in trouble?"

"For killing Constable Norman? No. There were plenty of witnesses to testify to what happened. He saved not only your lives, but whomever Norman might have decided to shoot in his attempt to escape. The man was obviously disturbed, opening fire like that in a crowded area, shooting a fellow officer. I just don't understand it."

"Did he say anything else about Bullweather, anything we can use against him?"

"Not really, no. Just that Norman did the shooting out of some twisted devotion to Bullweather. Apparently, the Superintendent told Norman that Constable Fraser was a serious threat to his safety."

"And you have to prove whether this Norman guy was a nutcase acting on his own or if he was set up to do it by Bullweather." Ray closed his eyes, disheartened, his stomach tight. He knew from experience that sometimes those kind of threads were hard to find. "Tell me you'll find the connection."

"We'll do our very best, Ray. My top people are already on the case and I'm calling in a lot of favors to make sure that every single aspect of this case is on the fast track. If Bullweather had anything whatsoever to do with this, we'll find it."

"You know he does. The son of a bitch is behind this. No way Norman acted on his own."

"I believe that to be true, yes, but believing something and proving it aren't necessarily the same. As a detective, I'm sure you've run into this sort of situation before."

Reluctantly, Ray admitted, "Yeah, yeah, I have. It sucks."

"Still, I assure you, if there's a criminal link, I'll find it and prove it in a court of law."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Hathaway patted Ray's arm and shook his head as he spoke. "I'm really sorry, Ray. I promised to protect you and I failed. Plus, I failed to protect Constable Fraser. Nothing like this has ever happened here before. It's like something out of a bad movie."

"It wasn't your fault. We all had the wrong idea, thinking I was the target. Turned out to be Ben."

"But we should've been more prepared."

"Nobody else was hurt, right, none of the kids or anything?"

"No, just you and the Constable, and, of course, Norman."

"Just promise me you'll do everything you can to put this Bullweather shit away."

"That I can promise."

"Good."

Ray squeezed his eyes shut again, this time the wave of nausea hitting him like a punch to the gut. He reached out for the little plastic bowl, fumbled around, and found it shoved into his hand by Hathaway. "Here."

Ray retched several times, but only bile came out. He heaved a few more times and then let his head fall back, miserable. "Sorry."

"Do you need a nurse?"

"No, I need Ben. Any news yet?"

"I'll go check and let you rest. As soon as I know, you'll know."

"Thanks."

"I'll keep you up-to-date about Bullweather, too."

"Good."

"Sleep now."

As Ray kept his eyes shut, he heard Hathaway leave. Lying there, his head thumping like some really bad punk rock band, he wished he had a stiff drink, a beer, some whiskey, anything to dull the pain of knowing Ben would suffer even more when or if he came through surgery. He bit his lower lip as the if-word popped into his head. No if about it. Ben would make it. Question was, how was he going to feel when he found out his ex-lover tried to have him whacked? That whole business with Victoria nearly did him in. Now there was another mess, one just as shitty, if not worse.

Ray sometimes wished he could see the future, see how things all turned out. Other times, he was glad he couldn't. If he could, he'd probably be in prison for murdering the son of a bitch who tried to kill his partner.

When Ray woke up again, he blinked several times to clear his vision and then saw Chris Frame sitting in the chair by the bed. The guy looked worse than he did, like somebody had worked him over with a two by four and then thrown him in the lake for good measure. His throat dry as dust, Ray croaked, "Hey."

Chris's head jerked up, his eyes dark and his expression pretty damn grim. "Hey. How you feeling?"

"Better than you, I'll bet."

"Sucker's bet." Chris stood and walked to the bed, leaning against the rail. "He's out of surgery."

Ray closed his eyes and thanked God or his lucky stars or anything else that needed thanking. He didn't even try to hide his tears. "How is he?"

"He's in intensive care, but the prognosis looks good. I have to admit, I thought he was a goner."

Ray opened his eyes and stared, taking Chris at his word. "He was that bad, huh?"

"Yeah, but he's strong. He'll make it."

"Thanks to you."

Chris's expression got even darker. "Thanks to me you're both lucky to be alive. I'm sorry. I fucked up."

"You didn't fuck up. You killed Norman. Thanks for that."

"But I should've stopped him. The little shit wore a fucking Mountie suit. I thought he'd just dropped by off duty or something. It never once occurred to me that the perp could be a fucking Mountie. Jesus." Chris ran a hand over his buzzed hair and shook his head. "I should've seen him, stopped him before he got the gun out."

Ray saw the guilt, the anger, and recognized it in himself. It might not do any good, but he needed to try to set things straight. "Stop beating yourself up. We all fucked up, but if it weren't for you, we'd both be dead."

"If you hadn't covered Fraser like you did, when you did, he'd be dead for sure." Chris stared right at him, his eyes blistering hot. "You have got to be the luckiest son of a bitch on the fucking planet."

Ray touched the bandage that wrapped his head. He could feel the raised area just above his left ear. It was like a thin ridge where the bullet grazed his skull. Maybe he was lucky to still be breathing, but then he thought about nearly losing Ben and didn't really believe it. "Funny. I don’t feel lucky."

"Who the fuck gets shot in the head and lives to tell about it? And how the fuck did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That it was Fraser and not you who was the target?"

"I didn't until I saw the laser dot on his back."

"But you were running before that. There's no fucking way you could've seen it from where you were sitting. I couldn't see it and I don’t even need glasses."

Ray dropped his gaze, not able to tell Chris about Fraser's dad, not without ending up on the psych wing. "I don’t know. I just got a bad feeling, that's all."

"Instinct, huh?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Bet you were a hell of a cop."

Ray's stomach knotted up at the thought of being a cop, of killing people again. "Doesn't matter now. I'm done with it. How about you? How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"You killed a guy. You're not fine, not even close."

Chris paced around and ended up over by the window, looking out, his arms crossed and his voice cold. "I did what I had to."

"And that's it, that's all you're feeling?"

"I've already been to a meeting. I'll probably hit another one before the day's over."

"Kill a guy, get hammered. I'd need a meeting, too."

"Fuck you."

Ray didn't answer, didn't want to say anything else. He had enough on his own plate without worrying about Chris Frame going on a bender.

After a few minutes of quiet, Chris stepped closer to the bed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to —"

"Don't worry about it. You think you could do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"See if you can wrangle up a wheelchair and get me over to ICU to see Ben."

Chris looked at him, his head cocked to the side. "You're crazy. Egan would eat me alive if I pulled that shit and something happened."

"What's going to happen?"

"You head could explode for one thing. Worse yet, he'd chew my ass off." Chris paused and added, "I can go get an update though. That'll have to hold you until Egan lets you out of bed."

"Chicken shit."

"You better believe it. I don't mess with Doc Egan. Besides, Mimi would kill me, too. She's upset enough about Fraser. You kick it and I'd never hear the end of it."

"Wuss."

"Yep, that's me. Now, do you want the update or not?"

Figuring it was the only way to get news, Ray gave in. "If that's the best you can do, yeah."

"For now, that's it. I'll be back in a few minutes."

As he headed to the door, Ray asked, "Is somebody with him? I mean, he's not alone, right?"

"No, he's not alone, Ray. He's got the nurses and Mimi's sitting with him."

"What about Dief?"

"Dief's with Jeremy. Funny thing."

"What?"

"Well, I figured Dief would go wild when we tried to help you and Fraser, but he didn't. He just stayed with the kid, almost like he was guarding him or something."

Ray wasn't the least bit surprised, not when he thought about it. "The kid saw his dad die and now he saw Fraser shot. Dief's a smart wolf. He knew the kid would need something to hang onto, something that meant Fraser'd be okay."

"Like holding onto his wolf would mean that Fraser wouldn't die or something?"

"Yeah. Makes sense."

"I guess." Chris thumbed at the door. "I'll go check on Fraser. You need anything?"

"A wheelchair or some crutches."

"Nice try. Forget about it."

As soon as he was gone, Ray whispered to himself, "Not fucking likely."

Two o'clock in the morning and Ray sat on the edge of his hospital bed, his feet dangling, trying to get ready for one more try, one more heave ho to get out of bed and down the hall and up to wherever he needed to go. He'd gotten up once already and nearly fell on his ass before he got back in bed. Still shaky and cold, he braced himself, took a deep breath and put his right foot on the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Ray looked up to see Egan standing in the doorway, looking pretty pissed off. "Uh, just thought I'd go to the can?"

"Is that a question or an answer? And do you think I'd buy that?"

"Had to give it a shot." Ray scooted back on the bed and steadied himself. "Look, I just need to see him. Chris said he's still not awake."

"I know. It's worrisome. Still, you doing a nosedive into the floor won't do him any good, either, now will it?"

Ray gave his plea one more chance. "I have to see him."

"I know, but there's a right way and a wrong way. Just hold your horses." Egan stepped outside and returned in an instant with a wheelchair. He moved in close to the bed, transferred the IV to the pole on the back of the chair, and then held out a hand to Ray. "Take it easy, not too fast. Tell me if you're dizzy."

With Dr. Egan's help, Ray got in the chair, a little out of breath and spinning, but doing okay once he settled. "I'm fine. Roll it."

Before they headed out, Egan took a blanket and put it across Ray's lap like he was some kind of old man, some kind of invalid. Still, it felt warm and took the chill off, so Ray didn't complain. As Egan pushed Ray out of the room and down the hall, they stopped at the elevator. The doors opened right away and they got in. Once they arrived on the ICU floor, Egan rolled him in front of Ben's door before he stopped. He patted Ray's shoulder. "Don't be too shocked. He's better than he looks. It's just that the equipment can be daunting to someone who sees it for the first time."

Ray nodded, his throat tight as he prepared himself for what he might see. When they went inside, Ray went cold all over. Ben lay there, hooked up to wires and machines that made little peeping sounds. His pale skin looked greenish grey under the fluorescent lights. He didn't have a respirator, but he did have oxygen that made a faint little hiss. The room smelled of antiseptic, not like Ben at all. A white bandage wrapped his whole chest and collection bags full of blood and urine hung on the left side of the bed.

"Jesus."

"I know he looks bad, but —"

"No, it's okay. I've been shot before. I know how bad it looks. Get me closer."

Egan pushed him in as close as he could. "I can't take the rail down."

"It's okay." Ray reached through the opening between the slats and took Ben's right hand. It was cool to the touch, but not cold. He swallowed hard before he spoke. "Ben, you need to wake up now, okay?"

Egan leaned in, his voice low. "I'll leave you alone. Keep talking to him, Ray. We don’t know for sure if unconscious people can hear, but studies show —"

"He knows I'm here." Ray knew it was the truth, knew it with all his heart.

Patting his shoulder, the doctor left and Ray whispered, "Ben, don't you fucking leave me. I can't do this shit alone, I can't. I love you. Now, open your eyes, goddamnit, before I get really pissed."

Ben lay flat on his back, the ground hard and uneven against his spine. He blinked several times before he saw the late autumn light filtering through the low canopy of trees. He rolled over, crunching the dried leaves, and sat up. Disoriented at first, he then realized that he knew this place, the exact place where he lay. He'd stood there years ago and made the worst mistake of his life. In his mind, he flashed on that terrible moment after the single shot was fired, heard the wrenching cry of the dying caribou in his ears. He'd been so young and stupid, so arrogant and sure of what it would mean to kill the animal, to use its death as a rite of passage to his own adulthood. He'd grown wiser, true enough, but at what cost? The life of a noble creature was gone forever from the world. He owed for that grievance and he'd tried many times to make up for it, always falling a little short of what he imagined the bill to be.

"Well, Son, it's about time."

"About time for what, Dad?"

When he got no answer right away, Ben stood up, dusted off his uniform trousers, and walked over to stand by his father's side. He looked out over the great distance, the strong wind whipping his face, his body braced against it. The rich smell of the pines and fresh air filled him with such nostalgia, such a longing for his youth and for his mother, that his heart literally ached. He missed her terribly, though he'd been so young when she'd died. Would she know him when he saw her again? Would she be proud of him? Those were the questions he pondered most of his life, still considered often to this very day.

Hands behind his back, Ben found some small peace knowing that such a beautiful expanse still existed in the world partly because of the work he and his father did. He'd made a lot of errors in his life, but he hoped his mother could at least be proud of that much. "Why am I here, of all places?"

"You grew up here."

Remembering his own sin, Ben nodded. "Yes, I did. At the time I wished Quinn would have stopped me. I was angry for a long while."

"And now?"

"Now, I realize he did the right thing. It's always difficult to admit that others might know more than yourself when you're young."

"I'm afraid it doesn't change much when you get older."

"True enough."

They stood there for a few moments before Ben asked again, "But why am I here?"

"Ray asked the same question."

Stunned, Ben turned and stared. "You called him Ray."

"Well, that is the Yank's name."

"I know, but —"

"I thought it only appropriate to use it, especially now."

"Now?"

"Now that you're injured again, Son. Don't you remember?"

Ben only vaguely recalled the attack, but he did remember Ray tackling him as he heard the shots. "Is Ray okay?"

"He's alive, but he's worried about you and with good reason."

Closing his eyes, the images all blurred, the smell of blood and thwack of the rounds as they fired, all ran together in his head. Ben had no idea what happened after Ray shoved him to the ground, no clear memory at all. It reminded him of that time when Ray Vecchio pulled a trigger that so drastically changed his life. His eyes flew open with the sudden realization. "I've been shot again?"

"Yes."

"But I feel perfectly fine."

"And you will as long as you stay here."

"Here?"

"In the Borderlands, Son. You've been here before, remember?"

"Yes, I do, but I'm not dead, am I?"

"No, but you can't stay here forever."

For the first time, Ben realized that his father was a pale comparison of his usual self. "What's happening to you?"

"I appear to be fading."

"Fading?"

"Nothing lasts forever, Benton."

Ben reached out, tried to touch his shoulder, but his hand passed right through and he could still see it inside his father's body. He stared in disbelief at his hand and then his father. "I don't want you to leave."

"And I'd prefer to stay, but it's not really up to either of us."

"But —"

"Benton, you have to listen before it's too late."

"Listen to what?"

"Ray needs you. If you decide to stay here, he'll join you soon enough, but do you really want that?"

"Join me? Are you saying if I die, he'll die, too."

"One way or another, yes. He loves you, Son, depends on you as you depend on him. Don't leave him alone to fend for himself, Benton. He's far too fragile for that right now. It'd be a selfish thing to do, to stay here only to avoid the pain of returning. Besides, there's no guarantee that you'd be together in the hereafter. Just look at your mother and me. I've yet to see her and I've been here for several years now. It's the greatest of disappointments, I must say."

Ben rubbed his right eyebrow with his thumb, the urgency of his father's warning nearly too much to take in. "I don't mean to be a coward."

His father reached out, his hand settling on Ben's arm. Ben didn't feel it, but he could see it and that was enough, enough to understand that his father really did care. "You're not a coward, never have been. You're one of the bravest men I've ever known. I'm proud of you."

Eyes stinging, Ben swallowed several times before he found his voice. "Thank you, Dad. That means a lot to me. I'm proud of you, too."

"I know, Son. Now, make me proud again by doing the right thing. It'll be difficult, but you're made of sterner stuff than most men, and you have Ray. He'll be there for you. He's a good man, a man worthy of your love. I only wish Caroline had met him. She'd be pleased."

"Would she, Dad?"

"Oh, yes, Son, very pleased. Oh, it would've been nice to have grandchildren, but one can't have everything. In the end, one can only wish the best for one's own children. You have that in Ray. Now, it's time. I need to say goodbye to Buck before it's too late."

His father shimmered and faded to nothing, his voice carried on the wind. "Be safe, Son. I love you."

Ben wiped away a tear and cleared his throat. "Goodbye, Dad. I love you, too."

Time passed, the wind growing stronger, at times nearly knocking him off his feet. In the distance, he heard his name and the sweetness of Ray's voice. When he was finally ready, Ben closed his eyes and let the clouds settle around him, the swirling eddies of vapor lifting his spirit and carrying it away, returning him to his own body and back to Ray.

"I swear to god, if you don’t wake up, I'll go nuts, well, nuttier than I am right now anyway. You know you don't want that." Frustrated with no response, Ray tried again. "Come on, Ben, wake up. I'm begging you here. You want to see me beg? Is that what this about? Because if it is, I can do begging. Hell, I can outbeg Dief if I have to. Don't make me have to, okay?"

For the first time, the hand held by Ray's hand twitched and then squeezed back. Startled, Ray looked at the flutter of the eyelids. Blue eyes met his as Ben barely croaked out his name. "Ray?"

Nodding, Ray reached up through the slats and caressed Ben's face. "Welcome back, partner."

Ben's eyes opened and closed several more times before he finally focused. "It hurts."

"I know. I'm sorry. You got shot."

Ben concentrated for the first time on Ray's face and bandage. He grimaced as he struggled to speak, the words hoarse and still very weak. "You're hurt, too."

"Just a scrape. A few stitches. I'm fine. You'll be okay, too, but you had me worried."

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it. Let me get a nurse to help with the pain, okay?"

Ben refused to let go of his hand and shook his head. "Don't leave. Just sit with me."

Ray settled back in the chair, happy as hell Ben was awake. "You've got it."

"What about Diefenbaker?"

"He's fine. Jeremy's taking care of him. Don't worry."

His eyes closed and Ben whispered, "He's gone, Ray."

"Who's gone?"

"My dad, he's gone."

Worried, Ray leaned in a little closer. "What do you mean gone? Like gone gone, like not coming back gone?"

"I think so, yes."

Remembering his own experience, Ray nodded. "He looked really pale when I saw him."

Ben struggled to turn his head, to meet Ray's gaze. "You saw him, too?"

"Yeah, twice. Once when he told me to warn you and again right before I woke up."

"I don't understand."

"Me, neither. He said he tried to warn you directly, but he felt like he was disconnecting or something. Looks like now he's disconnected for good, huh?"

"So it would appear, yes."

"Still, you got to make up, make it good between you before he left."

Ben closed his eyes, smiling weakly. "Yes, yes, we did."

"So that has to count for something. Not to mention, if it hadn't been for him, you'd be dead, too."

Eyes still shut, Ben hissed the words through the pain. "I don't remember. What happened?"

Ray petted back Ben's sweat damp hair. "It doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that you're safe and you're going to be okay."

Ben licked his lips, struggling to stay conscious. He opened his eyes again, eyes dulled with pain and drugs. "How bad is it?"

For about half a second, Ray considered lying, but shut that idea down in a big hurry. If nothing else, he'd learned that it wasn't worth the risk of lying to Ben about anything anymore. "You took one in the upper left back near the shoulder. They had to repair an artery and there's muscle damage. They don't know about nerve damage yet. The bone's good, though."

Ben closed his eyes for a few seconds. "The shoulder hurts, but I can't feel my left arm at all."

"That's normal, that's not a big deal, Ben. They numbed it all up. It'll take time for the feeling to come back."

"If it ever does."

"Now who's being the gloomy Gus?"

"Right you are, Ray." Ben opened his eyes again. "I should be grateful we're both still alive."

"Damn, right."

Still staring at Ray, Ben asked, "Who shot me, Ray?"

"We don't have to talk about that now."

Ben didn't waver, didn't even blink. He asked again, this time his voice stronger. "Ray, who was it?"

"Some kid named Norman."

Thinking hard, Ben frowned and shook his head. "I don't know anyone named Norman."

"He's linked to Bullweather."

Ben's breath hitched and he shut his eyes in shock. "Good Lord."

Ray squeezed Ben's hand right hand, his voice low. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you, but you've got a right to know."

"Thank you."

Ben's eyes stayed closed, but his hand still gripped Ray's. After a few minutes of quiet, Ben whispered, "I'm so tired."

"I know. Go to sleep. You're safe now. You're going to be okay."

As Ben drifted off again, Ray called for a nurse, wishing like hell he could blow that Bullweather's fucking head off.

At early morning light, Egan wheeled Ray to his room and helped him back into bed. "You rest. I'll be back after lunch to check on how you're doing."

"And Ben?"

"That's up to his surgeon, but if he remains stable, he'll likely be moved in with you."

"Good, that's good. The sooner the better."

"Ray?"

"Don't expect miracles. He's going to have a rather lengthy recovery."

Ray frowned as he considered the words. "How lengthy?"

"Several weeks in here, several more in rehab before he's released."

"Shit."

"On the positive side, he'll have the best of care."

"But he'll be stuck in here."

"Better here than the grave, Ray."

Like a cold slap of water, Ray got the message. "Good point."

"Now rest. That's an order."

As soon as Egan left, Ray closed his eyes, his mind running in a million different directions. A few minutes later, he heard someone clear his throat. Ray opened his eyes to see Stevie Garvey. The kid had obviously been crying. "Hey, Stevie."

"Hey, Ray. Sorry to bother you."

Ray knew exactly what the kid needed to hear. "He's going to be okay."

Nodding, fighting back more tears, Stevie stepped closer. "He's in intensive care. They won't let me see him."

"Yeah, I know."

"But you're sure he's going to be all right? He's not going to die or anything? I mean, I was there. I saw the whole thing, all the blood and everything. Jesus. It was crazy. Nothing like in the movies."

Yeah, Ray knew about that, too, knew all too well how a bullet hurt a lot more in real life than on screen. Bullets on the screen didn't kill a guy, didn't lay him up for weeks or even months on end. McQueen and Eastwood, they never had rehab, never had to fight to keep breathing or go through all that shit. They just got up, bleeding fake blood, making the bad guys pay. Fuck. In real life, the pain knocked a guy down and too many times the creeps got away, laughing their skuzzy little asses off. Stevie touched his arm to get his attention and asked again. "Ray?"

Ray snapped, "What?"

"Will he really be okay?"

It took a minute to get what he was asking, to pull himself away from the anger welling up when he thought about Ben being shot in the back by some scumbag. "He's really bad right now, but he'll pull through." It seemed weird to be comforting the kid, but saying the words out loud helped Ray, too, made it more real that Ben would make it okay. "So, you started working on the cabin yet?"

Stevie shook his head. "Not yet. I've been worried sick all night. The crew's supposed to show up on site in a few hours. I wasn't sure if you wanted to go ahead with the job now or not."

"Sure we do. Ben's going to be in here for a while, but when he comes out, it'd be great if we could have it ready to move into, you know?"

Stevie's face brightened for the first time. "It would be great. He loves that place and he's going to love it even more when I get done with it, too."

"Me, too. I'm looking forward to going to the can this winter without freezing my skinny ass off."

"It'll be a big step up from an outhouse, that's for sure." Hesitating, Stevie asked, "Did Constable Fraser ever tell you the story of how we met?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of? What's that mean, sort of? He either did or he didn't."

Caught trying not to come out and call the kid a thief, Ray gave up. "Okay, okay, he told me. Said you were shoplifting and he gave you a break."

"Is that how he said it?"

"Not in those words, but that was the general idea, yeah."

Stevie shook his head and smiled, like he could see the past as well as he could see Ray lying in the hospital bed. "That sounds like him, making it seem so simple."

"But it wasn't?"

"He saved my life."

"Come on, Stevie. He kept you out of jail for a few nights or out of juvie. Sure, it was a good deed, but —"

"No, you don't understand. I never told him."

"Told him what?"

"That he literally saved my life that day. When I got caught, I thought the whole world had ended. I'd shamed my mom, my sisters, myself. I really wanted to do something unforgivable. I knew my life was over."

"You were a kid. Everything gets blown out of proportion sometimes."

"Yeah, maybe, but I know that if Constable Fraser hadn't stepped in when he did, I wanted to just end it all, you know? It was like I'd tried so hard to go to school and take care of everybody and I was just too tired to care about me anymore." Stevie paused and asked, "You ever felt that way? You ever felt like you just couldn't take one more thing before you snapped and said fuck it all, I'm done here?"

Ray took his time before he finally answered, "Yeah, I've felt like that before. It sucks."

"So you know what it's like. You know that it takes a lot to keep you from just taking that one last step to get it over with. Hang yourself, shoot yourself, it doesn't much matter when you get to that point."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the feeling."

"Then along comes this guy out of nowhere, like a throwback to another time and place, a Mountie who takes you aside and acts like he really cares. He's not like the others, the preachers and teachers, with their fake smiles and holier than thou advice. No, he's different. He listens before he talks. He's a real good guy, not some poser."

Ray's heart swelled with pride for his partner, knowing all too well how great Fraser was at being there and knowing just the right thing to say to put things in perspective, to make a guy step back from the edge just in time. "Yeah, he's a good guy."

"He gave me a second chance. I'll never forget that."

"You shouldn't."

"So, you understand why I wanted to do the cabin, right, because I owe him so much. I wanted to make up for what he did for me."

"I get that."

Stevie dropped his gaze and shrugged. "Good, because I didn't want you to think there was a different reason."

"Why would I think that?"

"Well, the other night at the cabin, you acted sort of, I don't know, territorial, like I might have designs on his person or something."

Ray snorted and quickly regretted it. He held his head and winced. "Ow."

"You okay?"

"I got shot in the head."

"Yeah, I know. You must have one hell of a hard head."

"It's been said."

"Anyway, I just wanted to explain —"

"You don’t owe me an explanation, Stevie. What happened between you and Ben, that's between you two. How you feel about him is your business. On the other hand, it's good that you noticed the territorial business, because I am."

"Am what?"

"Territorial."

"Thought so."

"Just so you know."

Stevie smiled again and nodded. "Got it." He thumbed towards the doorway. "Anyway, I guess I should head out to the site. You want me to keep you up-to-date every day or what?"

"You can drop by. As soon as Ben's out of ICU, you can talk to him. Just not for long periods. He's going to need a lot of rest."

"Yeah, getting shot does that, or at least that's what I've heard. So, you need anything?"

"A new head maybe."

"Can't help you there, but I'll get the toilet up and running first thing, though. How about that?"

"Sounds good."

"Later then."

"Later."

As soon as the boy left, Ray closed his eyes. He wondered how many other people Ben had saved, rescued from fates that didn't bear imagining. Ray figured he could think of at least one other, some Polish prick who sometimes didn't have a clue about how to keep living without Ben being there to remind him of all the great reasons he had to keep breathing.

The rest of the day came and went pretty fast, all kind of mixed up and run together. Ray couldn't keep any food down or stand up without falling over, so Egan wouldn't release him and Ray didn't really have the strength to fight about it. It didn't matter much anyway, since Ray had no intention of leaving the hospital anytime soon, not without knowing Ben was doing a hell of a lot better than he was so far.

Ray had visitors off and on all day, too, but nobody stayed too long. Still, the room looked like a florist shop, full of bouquets, balloons, and a couple of stuffed animals from Cal's kids and a toy plane from Jeremy. Doctors, nurses, and Mounties had been in and out, making a real parade of it. They all meant well, but all Ray could think about was Ben. Finally, when the nurse came to take his pressure again, he asked, "Has there been any word about when Constable Fraser will get out of ICU and get moved in here?"

Nurse Betty smiled. "Actually, it's you who's being moved. As soon as Constable Fraser's settled in a bed on the surgical wing, we'll transport you up there. Dr. Egan made special arrangements so you two could be roomed together even though you're not technically supposed to be able to do that."

Ray relaxed for the first time since the whole thing started. Thank god Egan pulled some strings. "So, he's well enough to leave ICU?"

"He's still in serious condition, but stable enough to be out of ICU, yes." She recorded his pressure and all those other readings before fluffing his pillow. "Just be patient, Mr. Kowalski. As soon as we have the word, we'll move you upstairs. It shouldn't be long now."

"Thanks."

As soon as she left, Ray tried to get comfortable, which wasn't too easy considering his head still felt like one of those tilt-a-whirl things from a carnival. He ignored all that and thought about his partner instead. Ray wanted to be there for Ben, to make sure he knew he wasn't alone in this whole business. Even when Ben got released, he'd be there. Ben had been there for him through the toughest times of his life and now it was time to repay the favor.

"Hey, you up for some company, man?"

Ray eyed Eddie, who came into the room, a young visitor by his side. "Sure, come on in. Where's Dief?"

Jeremy answered first. "He's downstairs. The hospital has some dumb rule about no animals. It's stupid."

"Couldn't agree more, dude, but rules are rules." Eddie patted the boy's shoulder. "We discussed that, right?"

"Yeah, I know." The boy acted bored as he parroted the words. "We have to follow the rules even when they seem stupid sometimes. I get it."

"Good, okay, well, we'll confront that little hostility issue another day, man, okay?" Eddie turned his attention back to Ray. "Chris told me you weren't getting out today. Bummer. You need anything, man?"

"I'm fine. Ben's getting out of ICU later though."

"Cool, that's great."

Jeremy nodded and added his two cents. "Yeah, cool. I was really worried." The boy suddenly paled and swallowed hard. "I mean, all that blood and everything. I was afraid that, well, you know."

Ray felt bad for the boy, knowing how much he looked up to Ben. "Yeah, I know. Me, too, but he's going to be okay, so don't worry. It's just going to take time to get back on his feet."

Jeremy stepped closer to the bed, big brown eyes all rounded, both hands on the rail. He looked a lot younger than his 12 years. "My mom said you got shot in the head."

"Yeah, I did."

"How come you're not dead?"

"Good question. Too hard-headed to die, I guess."

"I saw it happen."

"I know."

"I mean, I was right there and everything happened so fast, but I saw you knock him down. If you hadn't done that, he'd have been shot through the heart. I heard Chris tell my mom that."

Ray reached out and covered the boy's hand with his own. "He's going to be okay, Jeremy. He's hurt bad, but he'll get better. Meanwhile, you're doing one of the best things you could do."

"What's that?"

"Taking care of Dief. You know how much that wolf means to Ben, right?"

"Yeah, I know. You don't think he'll mind me keeping him while you two are in here?"

"He'll appreciate it. You know Dief likes to act like he's all tough and wolf-like, but he needs somebody to look after him, too, you know? It's good that he's got somebody to make sure he eats and has a place to sleep and everything. He likes a good head or belly rub, too. "

"I can do that."

"I know you can."

"You think they'll let me see Constable Fraser when he gets better?"

"I'm sure of it."

"Good." Jeremy looked around the room and took a deep breath. "I hate hospitals."

"Yeah, me, too."

"We came here after my dad killed himself." Ray didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. He glanced over at Eddie, but Eddie remained quiet, too. They both waited until Jeremy finished his thoughts about his father's death. "Ever since then, they creep me out. I keep thinking people go in, but they don't come out. They just come here to die, seems like. So, when you and Ben got shot, it was just really scary."

Eddie stepped closer and put a hand on Jeremy's shoulder. "You know that's not true, though, right? Hospitals help people."

"Yeah, I know. I can't help what my brain thinks sometimes."

Ray knew the feeling. "Yeah, I know. Look, Jeremy, would you do me a big favor."

"Sure. What?"

"Would you make sure to talk to Dief about what's going on. I know he's deaf, but if you talk right to his face, he can read your lips."

Jeremy stared at him like he'd lost his mind, but then he grinned like he was just getting the joke. "Wolves can't read lips."

"Dief can."

The kid lost the disbelieving smile and cocked his head. "How do you know?"

"Because he does it with Ben and me all the time. Of course, that doesn’t mean he pays attention all the time, but I know he knows what I'm saying when he wants something."

"Wow. I knew he was a smart wolf, but that's really cool."

"Yeah, and I'm figuring he's probably really freaked out, what with Ben and me both being gone. So, it's up to you to let him know we're okay, right? Can you do that?"

"Sure, I can do that." Jeremy scratched his head, thinking really hard. "Man, I'm glad he can't talk."

Ray didn't want to bust any bubbles so he kept quiet about Dief's abilities and asked, "Why's that?"

"Because I've told him stuff I haven't told anybody."

"Well, that's okay. I mean, even if he could talk, Dief's really good at keeping secrets."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. I've told him some whoppers and he hasn't blabbed at all, at least not as far as I know."

More relaxed, the boy nodded. "I'm glad you're okay, Ray."

"Thanks."

"And Constable Fraser, too."

"Me, too."

"You think he'd mind if I called him Ben sometimes?"

"I don't think he'd mind. You can ask him yourself later if you want."

"Okay. Guess I should go down and tell Dief what's going on." He turned to Eddie. "Is it okay if I do that? I promise to stay right at the door until you come down."

"Well, if you promise, sure, okay. I won't be but a minute."

"Thanks." Jeremy waved. "Bye, Ray. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, kid."

Looking indignant, Jeremy protested, "I'm not a kid."

"To me you're a kid. Now get going. Go take care of the wolf."

As soon as he was gone, Eddie said, "He's had it rough."

"Yeah."

"I mean, about losing his dad and all. Now Fraser."

Ray nodded, knowing Jeremy looked up to his partner for guidance, sort of like a father figure. "But Ben's not dead, so at least he hasn't lost that."

"Yeah, I know." Eddie paused and then pushed his long hair away from his face nervously. "Look, Ray, I need to ask you something and I don't want you to take offense, okay?"

Ray rubbed his forehead with one hand. "Well, you can ask. Don't know if it'll piss me off or not until I hear what you've got to say."

Eddie stepped in closer, his voice lowered. "You were a cop. Don't get mad, but Fraser told me that you'd killed some people before."

"Why should I get mad? It's the truth."

"Well, he said it bothered you a lot sometimes and that you felt guilty."

Ray used his balled up fists to massage his temples. "Where are you going with this, Eddie?"

"It's Chris. I'm worried."

Ray's attention got focused. "About what?"

"He's really upset about killing Norman. I mean, he knows he had to, but it's really doing a number on his head, man. I'm afraid he's going to start drinking again."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I thought maybe if you talked to him, you know, ex-cop to ex-cop, about what it's like for you, maybe it might help."

"I don't see how. If he wants to drink, he'll drink. Nothing I can do about it."

"But can't —"

"Look, Eddie, I know you're worried, but telling him about how I killed people isn't going to help with anything."

"You don't know that. Sometimes it helps to talk."

"And sometimes it's better just to bury the past and forget about it."

"Can you forget about it?"

Ray didn't answer right away, didn't really know how to explain how he lived with the pain of being a kid killer. He just did, just kept going and trying to be a better man to make up for it. Finally, he said, "I'm sorry about Chris, but this isn't something I can help with. He wants to talk, I'll listen, but I've got nothing to say that'll make it better. I've got no pointers on how to stay sober."

"But you're sober."

"Yeah, but I don't have a problem like Chris does."

"But I thought —"

"I know what you thought, one drunk to another, right? Well, sorry, the help desk is closed. I've got no answers." The pounding in Ray's head grew worse and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Look, I'm really tired."

Eddie patted his shoulder and then rested his hand there. "Thanks anyway. I know you'd help if you could." Then he was gone, poof, no more Eddie. Ray took a nosedive into sleep and dreamed about being roughed up by a bunch of goons, his head hammered into a brick wall in some back alley in Chicago.

True to their word, the nurses wheeled him upstairs into the room with Ben around eight. Ben was sleeping, but his color was better. He was still very pale, but at least he wasn't grey like before. Ray got into bed, dizzy and winded, but happy as hell to be in the same place as his partner. As soon as everything was hooked up and running, the nurse left them alone. Ray lay on his side and just watched Ben sleep. He must have dozed off because he woke a little later with Ben staring at him, a weak smile on his lips. "Hi, Ray."

"Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?"

"More comfortable than before."

"Got a lot of good drugs, huh?"

"Apparently."

"That goin' to be a problem?"

Ben's smile vanished. "Not at the moment. However, I do plan to make an extra effort not to abuse the medication later."

"I know that. I wasn't saying —"

"I know what you were saying, Ray, and with good reason. My history has shown that my judgment can't always be trusted when it comes to using prescribed medications."

"It won't be a problem, Ben. You'll be fine once they kick you out of bed and you get back on your feet."

Ben didn't argue the point. Instead, he asked, "What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Now that I'm here with you, a lot better."

"I thought they were only going to keep you overnight for observation?"

"I’m still a little dizzy, so Egan made me stay another night. Doesn’t matter. It's not like I'm leaving until you do anyway."

Ben closed his eyes, his voice weaker. "You can't stay here all the time, Ray. My surgeon's told me it's likely I'll be here for several weeks."

"I know. That's what Egan said, too."

"Promise me you're not going to sit here that whole time."

"No deal."

"Ray —"

"Shut up, Ben. I'm staying, so suck it up."

"Suck it up?"

"Accept it, get it through your thick head that you're stuck with me for the duration."

"What about the cabin and the job with Cal?"

"They'll still be there. Besides, there are other things that are more important. Remember, in sickness and in health?"

"I remember, yes." Ben turned his head on the pillow to meet Ray's gaze from just a few feet away. "I wish we had one big bed so we could share it."

"Man, that'd give the nurses a thrill, huh?"

"Actually, I was thinking of my own thrill factor."

"Thrill factor? Jesus, don't tell me you're horny."

"Not as such, no. However, the idea of you lying next to me while I convalesce has a certain appeal that has nothing to do with sexual intercourse."

"Sweet talk a guy, why don't ya?"

"I just meant —"

"I know what you meant. Same here. But, this is better than it was, right? We've got the same room for the night, and when he releases me, I'll still hang around. Hell, you'll be sick of me before it's over."

"I'll never be sick of you, as it were, Ray. I love you."

"Same here."

Ben hesitated before asked, "What about the investigation? Have they arrested Joshua?"

Ray rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He focused on the brown water spot in the far corner by the door to keep from blowing his top. "Hathaway came by. They're still gathering forensics and interviewing. No arrest yet."

After several moments of quiet, Ray turned his head to see Ben. "What?"

"I was just thinking."

"About?"

"I knew Joshua resented me, but I had no idea he'd stoop to hiring someone to kill me."

"He didn't hire him."

Ben's expression darkened. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying Bullweather told Norman you were some kind of threat. Norman was in love with Bullweather, so he shot you to protect him, or at least that's the story Bullweather's pushing to Hathaway and the others."

"Dear Lord, Ray, that means —"

"Yeah, I know. It's going to be really hard to get Bullweather."

Ben closed his eyes again. "I feel so helpless, Ray."

"You're not helpless, Ben. You're hurt, but you'll get better. When you do, if they still don’t have this Bullweather prick behind bars, we'll figure out a way to put him there. We both know he put this Norman up to what he did."

"We don't know that for sure, Ray. It is, after all, quite possible that Joshua didn't intentionally set Norman on a path to assassinate me."

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"That thing, that denial thing. He doesn't deserve the benefit of the doubt." When Ben didn't answer, Ray asked, "You really think he had nothing to do with this guy trying to blow you away?"

"I'd like to believe that, yes."

"Yeah, well, you wanted to believe Victoria loved you enough to change, too, but we both know how that came out."

Ben said nothing, just closed his eyes, his face red, but his vitals on his machines suddenly going sky high. Ray wanted to sock himself in the head. "I'm sorry. That was a low blow."

"Yes, it was."

"I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I meant it, but not the way you think."

"How do you think I think you meant it?"

"I just meant that you always want to see the best in people."

Ben finally opened his eyes and looked at him. "What's wrong with that, Ray? What's wrong with wanting to see the best in people, to expect the best?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, Ben, but you've got to prepare yourself to get kicked in the head by the fact that most people don’t do the right thing, that given a chance, they'll screw you over any way they can. That's just the way people are, especially people like Bullweather. How can you defend him like that?"

"I'm not defending him, Ray. If he had anything to do with us getting shot, they'll find a connection and he'll go to prison. I trust the system."

"Yeah, well, that's where we part ways. I know the system only works sometimes and when it comes to rich guys like Bullweather, they get more breaks than the rest of the thugs walking around."

"That might be true in the US, but not here. Here, the system works."

"Yeah, like it did with Gerrard?"

"Gerrard's in prison where he belongs."

"Yeah, maybe, but you were in exile for years because you did the right thing. What's that say for your system?"

Ben didn't answer right away. He rubbed his face with his right hand and then finally whispered, "Why are we fighting about this, Ray?"

"I don’t know. I guess I'm just a little mad that you're not as pissed off at Bullweather as I am."

"I'm too tired to be angry, Ray. Perhaps later."

"Yeah, when those drugs wear off and you're doing PT to get the use of your arm back. Think you'll get pissed off then?"

"I hope not."

Ray shook his head. "I don't get you, Ben. I'd want to take his head off, to slam him up against a wall and beat the crap out of him. How can you just lay there and not be pissed as hell?"

"You're alive, Ray. I'm alive. I'm incredibly grateful for that. I don't have enough energy left over to be angry."

Ray heard the crack in the words, the weakness in his partner's voice. "Okay, I get that. Go to sleep and rest up. I'll keep my stupid mouth shut."

Ben didn't answer, just lay there, his eyes closed and his breathing growing slow and steady. Wound up, Ray wanted to get up and kick a few windows out. Instead, he stayed still and wondered how long it would take before Ben lost it, got fired up and wanted to go after Bullweather as much as Ray did.

Just be patient, blah, blah, blah. That's what they kept saying, Hathaway, Egan, the nurses, even Ben. Patience wasn't Ray's strong suit or any suit at all for that matter. He'd be naked as a jaybird if he relied on being patient, which he pretty much was if he counted the flimsy hospital gown he was still wearing.

A respiratory therapist came in to give Ben another breathing treatment. Ben had to wear this little hissing mask with puffs of smoke coming out for about ten minutes and then blow into this pipe as hard as he could. Then he'd cough up a lung or two and be white as ghost before it was over. When the therapist left, Ray asked, "You okay?" Ben waved a hand, but didn't say anything. He couldn't. He was way too wiped out. "Just go to sleep, Ben. I'm right here. Not going anywhere."

Ray saw the tense lines in Ben's face and his body relax a little as he nodded, showing Ray he'd heard. As Ben dropped off to sleep, a nurse came in to change Ray's bandages. The arm wasn't bad, just a crease really, not deep enough to cause any serious damage. He had some stitches, but not a lot of swelling. The edges of the wound were already starting to knit together.

When she unwrapped his head, Ray explored it with his fingers. "Damn. They shaved my head."

Betty pulled his hand away and put it in his lap, patting it in place. "Don't touch. I need to disinfect the area before I reapply the bandage. As for the hair, most of it should grow back in no time."

"Most?"

"Well, the actual wound might not grow hair for a while, if ever, but the surrounding area should be fine."

"So, like, I'm going to have this bald spot forever?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Considering you got shot in the head and lived to tell the story, I don't think you should worry about it too much."

As she cleaned up his head and then rewrapped it, Ray had to admit she had a pretty good point. When she was done and gone, Egan walked in with a chart. The older man looked over at Ben, saw that he was sleeping, and kept his voice down. "How are you feeling, Ray?"

"Better."

"Dietary says you're still not eating."

"Who eats food in a hospital?"

"Ray —"

"I know, I've got to eat, but it makes me sick just to think about it."

"And you're still dizzy?"

"Yeah, some."

"Double vision?"

"Not so much double as just blurry, or blurrier than it usually is without my glasses."

Egan jotted all that down in his chart before he spoke again. "Your wounds are healing nicely, no sign of infection."

"That's good."

"I think the concussion might have been a bit more severe than we originally thought, though. I'd like to keep monitoring you a while longer. I might even do another CT scan if these symptoms persist or they get worse."

Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, the constant headache right behind his eyes making it hard to focus for long. "Look, I've had concussions before. It'll be okay."

"We'll see. Meanwhile, I've put out the word to restrict visitors for a bit."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Egan motioned toward Ben's bed. "How's he doing so far?"

"You tell me. You're the doctor."

"I meant emotionally. Physically, he's doing remarkably well."

Ray didn't have to ask what Egan meant about the emotional bit. He knew he was talking about the whole Bullweather thing from Ben's past. "He's doing okay, considering."

Egan didn't take it any further, didn't discuss Ben's abusive background with Bullweather, but his expression softened. "And you, Ray? How are you doing with all this?"

"Okay, I guess. I just want Ben to be okay and that prick to get what's coming to him."

"What will you do if that doesn't happen?"

Ray's frown deepened. "You heard something I haven't?"

"No, just what I've heard on the news."

"The news? Fuck. What are they saying?"

"Just a general commentary about unsubstantiated rumors about the Superintendent's involvement and hints of a homosexual affair with Norman."

"Shit." Ray scrubbed his face with both hands, his whiskers burning his palms.

"Inspector Hathaway and I spoke briefly. We both agreed to ban the press from the hospital. However, you should be prepared just in case one slips in or you get ambushed when you're released. I've talked to Chris Frame and Cal Tyler about the problem. They both said they'd take some extra precautions and let people know not to do interviews about either of you."

Ray's chest tightened as he realized how his and Ben's friends were all rallying around them, protecting them from the vultures of the press, people who'd do anything for a story, especially one as juicy as this. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Just thought I'd warn you."

"I hate reporters. They twist shit around. You can't believe anything you read in the papers."

"Sometimes you can, but you're right. Some reporters aren't very scrupulous. This story has all the earmarks and the potential to become a media circus. I just thought it prudent to take precautionary measures."

Ray looked up, grinning despite the pounding in his head. "Prudent, huh?"

"What's funny about that?"

"Nothing. It's just that Ben always uses that word, prudent. It just struck me as queer, that's all. All you guys talk funny like that, using words like prudent and germane and doing the ah thing."

"The ah thing?"

"Yeah, you know, ah for this and ah for that for when you're trying not to say what you're really thinking."

"That's an interesting observation, Ray. I hadn't realized I did that."

"Ben, too."

"That's true. Does it bother you?"

"No, not really. I'm used to it now. Even started doing a few ahs here and there myself."

"There you go then."

"There I go what?"

"You're acclimating to Canada, picking up our little quirks. You'll be putting eh on the end of your sentences before you know it, eh?"

"And wearing a big hat, too, probably."

Egan looked confused. "A big hat?"

"One of the ten things a guy does to become a Canadian, get a big hat."

Egan chuckled. "I take it you're referring to Fraser's Stetson."

Ray nodded and then touched the left side of his scalp, remembering the shaved area right above his ear. "Might need one myself when the bandage comes off."

"Don't worry about the hair, Ray. It should grow back fairly quickly."

"I'm not worried about the hair, Doc, not really. I'm lucky to still have a head to wear a hat on."

"True enough." Egan patted his shoulder again and picked up his medical chart. "Call the nurse if you need anything. Try to drink more. I can't take the IV out until you increase the fluid intake and start keeping food down."

"Yeah, okay."

"Now, get some rest. I'll be back this evening to check on you two."

As soon as he left, Ray closed his eyes, tried to sleep but his mind wouldn't slow down. His head ached from the front all across the top and down the back of his neck, a deep pain that made him want to scream, but he didn't. He had to just try to relax, remember that he was lucky to be alive and that Ben needed him.

"Ray?"

Turning on his side, Ray saw Ben's eyes trained in his direction. "You have a good sleep?"

"I dreamed about my father."

"Yeah? Did you talk to him?"

"It was really a dream this time, Ray. He wasn't really there." Ben swallowed a couple of times before he spoke again. "I feel like I've lost him twice."

"You have, sort of. I mean, you lost him, got him back, and now he's gone again for good. So, yeah, it's like you're starting the whole mourning thing from scratch, only this time it's worse."

"How so?"

"Because you really got to know him, to like him. It wasn't like that before."

Ben squeezed his eyes shut, a single tear rolling down the side of his face. "I always loved him, Ray, but you're right. I didn't always like him. This time I did and it hurts to lose him more now than the first time."

"I'm sorry, Ben. I know it's hard."

After a few minutes of quiet, Ben opened his eyes again and turned his head. "They shaved your head?"

"Just a little patch where they had to put in some stitches. It'll grow back."

"You can wear my Stetson if you want."

Ray grinned at that. "Really?"

"Anytime."

"Thanks." Ray paused before he added, "You know I already wear it sometimes though, right?"

Ben smiled weakly, but his eyes more clear than they had been since he woke up. "I had my suspicions."

"But you never said anything."

"I like the idea of you wearing my hat, Ray."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. In fact, at some point, it might be interesting to see you wear it while we're in an erotic setting."

"Erotic setting, like in making out or something? You want me to wear the hat when we're having sex?"

"Something like that, yes, though primarily during foreplay, not during the actual event."

Ray laughed and then held his head, realizing that it only made his headache worse. He still smiled through the pain. "You're an honest-to-god freak, you know that?"

"Understood."

Ray managed to keep down his chicken soup and cherry Jello and people acted like he'd painted the Mona Lisa or something just as great. Of course, it did feel good to feel better, not to be dizzy and sick to his stomach all the time. His head still hurt, but not as much, something Ray wanted to smile about, too. So, when Egan released him, Ray was more than happy to sign off.

"Now, just because I'm releasing you, doesn't mean you should go out dancing, young man. You need to go home and get some rest. Find someone to drive you and go right to bed. I don't want to see you in here again until tomorrow morning at the earliest.

Ray shook his head. "No can do, Doc. I'm staying."

"Ray, you should do what the doctor says."

Frowning, Ray sat on the edge of his bed, his bare feet braced on the floor. "Forget about it. Chris brought me some clothes." He pointed at the brown recliner on the right side of Ben's bed. "I'm going to get dressed and move right over to that chair." Egan and Ben exchanged quick glances and Ray didn't like the odds of two against one, especially when Ben looked about ready to pull out the big guns. So, he repeated his position. "I'm not going home, Ben, so forget about it."

Egan spoke first. "Ray, you need rest. You're not going to get that sitting in a chair. How much help can you be if you wear yourself out? Don’t be so pig-headed and selfish."

"Okay, I'll give you the pig-headed bit, but it's not selfish to want to be here when Ben needs me."

"Ray, I think what the doctor's trying to say is —"

"Ben, I can talk for myself. I need him to understand the risks here."

Even in a hospital bed, wrapped up in bandages, looking like death warmed over, Ben kept up the charm, used his polite voice. "I understand that, Doctor, but if you'd permit me, I'd like to speak to Ray alone for a few moments."

Frustrated, obviously tired from the strain of the last few days, Egan gave in and nodded. "Sure. I hope you can get it through his thick skull that he's endangering his own health here."

As soon as Egan left, Ray sighed. "He's the one who needs a nap or something. He's been going at it top speed ever since this whole thing happened. He's pretty old, too. Might end up with a stroke or a heart attack or something, getting all wound up like that."

"Are you finished?"

Stubbornly, Ray crossed his arms, knowing Ben was going to say shit he really didn't want to hear. "I'm not leaving."

"Yes, Ray, you are, at least temporarily."

"Ben, listen —"

"No, Ray, you listen."

When Ben used that tone, that don't fuck with me voice he rarely used, Ray had no choice but to shut up and pay attention. "What? What? What are you going to say that's going to convince me that it's okay to leave the guy I love alone?"

"Ray, I love you, too, but I'm not alone."

"But you might as well be if I'm not here."

"It's not that I don't want you here, I do, but it'd be selfish of me to risk your health for that to happen."

"I'm not risking my health. Egan just overreacts sometimes."

"Might I remind you that you were shot in the head. You've got a concussion. You're not an uneducated man, Ray. You know that you need to rest to heal."

"I know, but —"

"I want you to heal, Ray. On a purely selfish level, if you make yourself sick, who's going to help me through this? On the other hand, if you do what Dr. Egan suggests, you can recover more quickly and, indeed, be there when I need help the most. You and I both know that my injury is severe enough that it might be several months before I can recover fully." Ben's voice softened. "I might never have the full use of my left arm, Ray. I need you to be there and if you don't take care of yourself now, I might lose the one person who matters most to me."

Ray hesitated, his heart thumping way too loud and his head pounding again. "That's fighting dirty, Ben."

"Dirty or not, it's the truth. I need you to promise me that you won't endanger your own health in order to help me now, not when I'll need you much more in a few weeks."

"So, what you're saying is that I should rest up for the tough time coming down the road?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"You don't understand."

"What is it that you think I don't understand, Ray?"

"You were there for me the whole time. You didn't take any little breaks. From the time I got hurt, all through the hospital, when I got home, you never gave up, never left. Now you expect me to just leave you here to fend for yourself? How am I supposed to do that and not feel like a big loser?"

Ben's expression softened, but his eyes were still dulled with pain. "I wasn't physically hurt at time, Ray. No one shot me in the head, as it were."

"I know, but —"

"Ray, I know how emotionally draining it can be when someone you love is badly injured. It's actually more difficult than being the injured party in some ways. That's why I'm asking you to please listen to me and go home."

"That's not buddies, making me feel like a shit for wanting to be here."

"I know that you want to be here. That was never in question. But I need you to go rest and come back later. Will you please honor my wishes on this?"

"How am I supposed to say no to that? I can't say no to that. That's not fair. Fuck you, Ben, you don't play fair for shit."

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I really am, Ray. If you weren't injured, I'd be more than happy for you to stay all the time, but that's not the case. I love you too much to let you endanger your own health for me."

"Even when it's my choice?"

"Even so, yes."

Ray rubbed his face with both hands, frustrated and defeated. Ben knew just what to say, knew how to work him like an expert. Then again, he was the Ray expert, the one guy who knew Ray better than himself. Finally, he gave up and wagged a finger. "Okay, but I'm coming back first thing tomorrow. Got that?"

Ben smiled weakly and closed his eyes. "Thank you, Ray. I love you."

"Love you, too, you big jerk."

Chris drove Ray to the house from the hospital, not saying much, just helping Ray into the truck and driving along all stony-faced. Ray hated to admit it, but Eddie might have reason to worry. The guy looked worse than Ray, and that was saying something since Ray with his bandaged head still looked like an outtake from THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY. "So, Chris, you doing okay?"

"Fine."

"You slept any?"

"What is this, the Inquisition?"

"Hey, just asking."

"Well, don't." They drove a minute more before Chris snarled, "Eddie put you up to that, asking me about sleeping?"

"Look, I just thought you looked like shit, is all. Excuse me for giving a rat's ass."

"Look who's talking. You're not exactly looking too fit yourself, Mr. Chicago."

"Yeah, but I got shot in the fucking head, remember?"

"You kill anybody lately?"

Instead of being shocked by the question, Ray admitted, "Yeah, as a matter of fact I have, or close to it."

Chris's anger stalled. Ray could see the man struggling to gain control. "What's that mean, close to it?"

"I got a kid killed, that's what it means. I knew he was in danger, but I didn't fight hard enough to keep him protected. He was killed by the same guy who wanted to kill me."

Chris shook his head, not taking his eyes off the road. "It's not the same."

"Maybe, maybe not, but you don't have to be the one who pulls the trigger to know what it feels like to kill somebody. Besides, you didn't have a choice. Norman could've shot somebody else. Sure, he's dead, but you saved a lot of people."

Chris pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine before he turned in the seat. "When I quit the force and moved up here with Eddie, I swore to God I'd never kill anybody again, but I did."

"And now you're wondering what other promises you'll break if you can break that one, right?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"You going to the meetings?"

"Twice a day."

"Whatever it takes, right?"

"Yeah."

"Look, you were right about one thing. Eddie came to see me, said he was worried about you."

"Shit." Chris rubbed his whiskery face with one hand, his bloodshot eyes avoiding Ray's gaze. "I wish he hadn't done that. What I'm going through is nobody's business."

"He's just scared, that's all."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

"Let's go inside, maybe have some coffee."

Chris met his eyes and shook his head. "I'm supposed to be bringing you home to bed, not so you can give a free therapy session."

"Well, I'm having coffee whether you want any or not, so suit yourself. Thanks for the ride."

Ray got out and walked around to the backdoor. He heard the other car door slam and Chris joined him just as he put the key in the lock. Inside, Ray stopped short when he saw the kitchen table. "Damn."

"Looks like Mimi and the rest of Yellowknife have been baking overtime."

The table was covered with pies and cakes of every variety, chocolate, pecan, coconut, you name it. On a hunch, Ray opened the refrigerator and discovered it stuffed with casseroles and all kinds of dishes that hadn't been there before they'd left for the picnic a few days ago. "Looks like I won't have to go shopping for a while."

"No kidding."

"They shouldn't have done all this. No way Ben and I can eat it all."

"They wanted to."

"I know, but —"

"Look, you're part of the community now, Ray. People here take care of their own. You better get used to it. Everybody pitches in and helps out. By the same token, they all know your business."

"Kind of a trade off, huh?"

"Sort of, yeah. I like it though." While he was talking, Chris motioned for Ray to sit down while he made coffee. "Have a seat. This won't take but a minute."

Ray didn't argue. He wasn't dizzy, but he wasn't all that steady on his feet, either. Besides, he figured if Chris made the coffee, it'd give him something to do while he worked up the nerve to spill his guts. Ray could almost see the wheels turning. He wondered if this was how Ben felt when he waited for Ray to talk about what was eating him. After the coffee was brewing and the cups were on a cleared spot on the table, Chris finally spoke quietly. "I see his face when I close my eyes."

"Whose face? Norman's?"

"No, not Norman's."

"Whose then?"

"A guy named Jericho. That wasn't his real name, just his street name."

Ray figured there was a lot more to the story, so he prompted, "What happened?"

"The bust went bad. He was freaked out, afraid to go to prison, what with all the new three strike shit. Third strike, you're out, no exceptions. It's a stupid law, but he knew he'd be put away for life if he got taken in one more time. He had a family, a wife and three kids. He was just delivering for pocket change. It should've been just a simple arrest, but it didn't go down like that." Chris hesitated and then told the rest. "He pulled a gun and I shot him. Turned out the gun wasn't loaded, but I didn't know that when I pulled the trigger."

"Shit. Not loaded?"

"No. I was cleared, though. They called it a good shoot. A good fucking shoot. A man's dead and now there's this widow and three kids over what? Pocket change? A couple bags of weed and some pills? It didn't make much sense to me."

"You were doing your job."

Chris slammed his fist into the counter. "Fuck my job. I could've just let him go."

"He pulled a gun on you, Chris."

"An empty gun."

"Every gun on the street is loaded. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that." Chris rubbed his face again. "Anyway, I went to the department shrink for a while, but it didn't help. I started drinking like a fish off the job and screwing up even worse on the job."

"Screwing up how?"

"I was hung over when one of the guys on my team took a bullet. He was out of position and I didn't know it until it was too late to compensate."

"He die?"

"Yeah. That's when I took a nosedive into the bottle. Didn't come out for a long time. Probably never would've if it hadn’t been for Eddie. He stuck with me through the whole mess."

Ray got the picture, knew from experience how tough it was to keep one's head on straight after the world buries a guy alive with all the stuff it can cough up. "Is that when you moved up here?"

Chris crossed his arms around his chest and took a deep breath. "Yeah. Best thing we ever did. Eddie gave up his social work and started writing full time." For the first time Chris smiled. "He's rich, you know."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah. He was pretty well off before from an inheritance, but he's made a fortune with those books he writes. He kids me about it. Says I could be a kept man if I wanted to be."

"Sounds like a sweet deal, but you don't strike me as a guy who'd be into taking things easy."

"You're right. I make my own way. He respects that. Of course, sometimes when the world's crashing in on me, I think it might not be a bad idea to take him up on it."

"So what's stopping you?"

"Pride, I guess."

"Pride's a bitch."

"Tell me about it." Chris turned around and checked the coffee, but it wasn't done yet, so he sat down at the table. "Look, ever since I shot Norman, I haven't slept or been able to focus on much. All I want to do is have a drink."

"So why don't you?"

"You know why I don't."

Ray did know, but he wasn't going to admit it. He wanted to hear what Chris had to say on the subject. "Seems to me that if you want to drink, you should have one. What's one little beer going to hurt?"

"Because one's never enough."

Bingo, give the guy a prize. "So going to two meetings a day, it works for you?"

"So far, yeah."

"And when it doesn't?"

Chris shook his head, his expression miserable. "I can't think like that, can't afford to." He stood up and went to the stove for the coffee. He poured them both a cup before sitting down again. "You want some cake or pie with this?"

"No, but help yourself."

"I'd throw up if I tried to eat anything."

Ray stirred in some sugar and drank the fresh coffee. It burned his tongue, but he didn't care. It tasted like heaven after that weak, muddy shit they'd passed off as java in the hospital. "I can tell you used to be a cop."

"How's that?"

"Your coffee."

"Too strong?"

"Naw, just right. I like it when it bites back."

They drank in silence for a few moments before Chris spoke again. "We've been talking about me this whole time. Sorry."

"It's okay. I asked."

"Yeah, you did. Anyway, I should tell you that Cal, myself, or somebody from the RCMP is going to be stationed out front while you're home."

That didn't track right, didn't make sense. "How come?"

"Just a precaution. It's a shame they don't have a bug spray for reporters."

Ray put his cup down, not convinced. "You're not staking out the place just to keep some newshound from getting a story. What's going on?"

Chris avoided his gaze while he sipped his coffee before he answered. "Nothing to worry about."

"For a cop, you don't lie worth shit."

"You saying cops lie?"

"Better than the scumbags usually. So, what's going on?"

"You're not going to like it."

"I already don't like it. What gives?"

"Hathaway said there's a possibility that Bullweather might show up, might try to talk to you or Fraser about what happened."

Ray shuddered involuntarily, the whole idea of that shit showing up giving him the heebie jeebies. "Son of a bitch has a lot of damn nerve."

"I'm not saying for sure that he will, but Hathaway seemed pretty convinced it was a possibility. He said that it's possible he'll try to talk you or Fraser into staying quiet about what happened between Bullweather and Fraser years ago."

"Fuck that."

"My feelings exactly. The thing is, I don't know for sure if Fraser feels the same way."

Ray dropped his face to one hand and rubbed his eyes. For the first time since the whole thing went down, he thought of something he'd completely forgotten. "My gun."

"What?"

Ray looked up and asked, "Where's my gun? When I went to the picnic, I was wearing it. Who has it now?"

Frowning, Chris sat back and studied him for a moment. "Shooting Bullweather won't solve your problems."

"It'd feel good though."

"Yeah, for about two seconds before they threw your ass in prison and Fraser was stuck seeing you through Canadian bars for the rest of your life."

"Good point. Anyway, I didn't ask because I plan to shoot his ass. I just want to know where my gun is."

"Hathaway has it. He took possession of it when they admitted you."

"Guess I need to see him to get it back, then, huh?"

"If he'll give it back."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's a smart man."

"Fuck you."

Chris raised his coffee cup like a toast. "I'll have to ask Eddie for permission first, thank you kindly."

After Chris left, Ray poured the rest of his coffee down the sink and turned off the stove. He needed to sack out for a few hours, catch up on some shuteye. He didn't realize just how tired he was until he got up to lock the door. That's also when he saw the stack of pink slips by the phone. He picked them up and read through the names of all the people who'd called and left messages. He checked them off in his head, Welsh, Turner, Thatcher, Renny and Peter, Crenshaw, Stella, and then his hand stalled. His mum's name was on the last slip, meaning she'd been one of the first to call. Ray sank down on one of the kitchen chairs, not sure what to think, just staring at his mum's name scribbled on the paper. It said to call as soon as possible, but he didn't know if he had the strength to talk to her, not if they fought again. At he same time, he knew he'd never sleep if he didn't at least let her know he was okay.

Ray put the house phone on the table and dialed the number. After four rings, he heard his mother's voice. He smiled in spite of himself. "Mum?"

"Oh, Stanley, I was so worried. How are you? How's Fraser?"

"I'm fine, he's not so fine."

"Thank god, you're okay. I prayed so hard, Stanley that you'd be all right after Stella said you'd both been shot by some maniac."

Eyes stinging, Ray took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "They released me today, but Ben's got to stay in the hospital a lot longer." His voice shook and he realized tears streamed down his face. He didn't bother to wipe them away. "I almost lost him, Mum. He nearly died."

"I’m so sorry, Stanley. I know you care for him."

"I love him. He's my life. I'd die if something happened to him."

"Don't say that."

"What? The loving him part or the me dying, too, part?"

"The dying part. I realize you love him. I don't claim to understand how it happened, but I know you. You don't say it unless you really mean it."

"That's a fact."

"But you can't just give up if he should die. He's a police officer and you have to prepare yourself for that kind of thing sometimes."

"How do you prepare yourself to lose the person you love, Mum?"

"I don't suppose you can, but you can't give up, either. He wouldn't want that, would he?"

Ray couldn't argue with that. Ben would probably kick his ass if he gave up, so he admitted the truth. "No, he wouldn't want that."

"Is there someone there to take care of you? Do you need anything?"

"There are plenty of people taking care of us, Mum. Don't worry."

"I can't help but worry. You've move to some place a million miles away, some place where I'll probably never see you again. Plus, you never call."

Anger swelled up inside him, like the phone didn't work both ways, but Ray bit his tongue. He didn't want to fight. Instead, he simply kept his voice calm. "I'll try to call more often, and you can call anytime you want. Reverse the charges if you want. This is a temporary number though. We'll probably go back to the cell phone when we move back to the cabin."

"Where are you staying now, dear?"

"A friend has a daughter who's working out of town. We're staying here until the cabin's finished being renovated."

His mother paused before she asked, "Does this mean you're really not coming back to Chicago?"

"I'm here to stay, Mum. Ben and I live here now."

Her voice cracked. "Will you at least think about coming to visit?"

"It's too soon to tell. Maybe someday, but not right away. I'm not sure how long it's going to take to get Ben back on his feet."

"I'll pray for you both, dear."

"Thanks." Ray hesitated before he finally built up enough nerve to say the words. "So, I guess Dad knows I was shot, too, huh?"

"He knows."

"And does he even care?"

"Oh, Stanley, don't be that way. You know your father still loves you despite —"

"Despite what, me being queer?"

"Try not to judge him too harshly. He's so old-fashioned, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Suddenly too tired to talk anymore, Ray finished up. "I have to go, Mum. I love you."

"I love you, too, Son. Take care of yourself and Fraser, too."

"I will."

As soon as his mother hung up, Ray sat very still, not sure if he could make it down the hall to the bedroom without falling over.

As it turned out, he didn't have to try. There were a couple of quick knocks at the back door and then it opened. Mimi, Jeremy, and Dief all rushed inside at once. Dief woofed as soon as he saw Ray, ran up to him, and began to lick every fleshy part he could reach. Ray buried his hands and his wet face into the safety of the thick, familiar fur. Mimi and Jeremy both stood there watching while Dief gave him a hell of a tongue bath. Ray petted him, relieved that Dief's enthusiasm and slobber hadn't changed. "Hey there, buddy. I missed you, too."

Jeremy asked, "You been crying?"

Mimi patted his shoulder and shushed. "It's okay for men to cry, Jeremy. He's been sick."

Ray shrugged and answered the boy's question. "I was talking to my mum."

"You've got a mum?"

Ray wanted to smile and explain that everybody had a mum, but then he thought of Ben's loss of his mother years ago and the separation he'd felt from his own mother for so long, so he didn't say that at all. Instead, he just nodded and answered, "Yeah, I've got a mum."

Ray woke up slowly, lying on his belly, the right side of his bandaged head on the pillow. When he opened his eyes, he had two pairs of eyes staring at him. Jeremy and Dief sat there watching him like he was a big plate of powdered doughnuts or something just as mouth-watering and tempting. "Hey, you two bored or what?"

Jeremy shook his head. "Mum said to keep an eye on you while she went to the store, so that's what we're doing."

"I don't think she meant for you to watch me while I was asleep."

Jeremy cocked his head to one side and studied him a moment longer before he asked, "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

A chill ran up his spine and Ray rolled over on his side. He sat up on the edge of the bed slowly, holding his head, hoping his brains didn't fall out all over the floor in front of the kid. "Did I scream or do anything scary?"

"You just whimpered a little, sort of like you were hurt or scared maybe." Jeremy put his hand on Dief's head, resting it there, and added, "We just thought you wouldn't want to be alone when you woke up, that's all."

Jesus, Ray couldn't believe the kid was so calm. He'd heard a grown man lying in bed whimpering like a baby for no good reason and he didn't get freaked out or even that upset. Jeremy interrupted his thoughts. "So, you have a bad dream or something?"

"I guess. I don't remember. I just do that sometimes."

"How come?"

Ray lied through his teeth. "I got shot, I guess."

"Yeah, that might do it. I have bad dreams sometimes, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. They're better now though. It takes time to get over bad stuff. Sometimes you think it'll never stop, but it does."

"I've heard that."

"You want an aspirin or something?"

Ray was still holding his head, which hurt like hell, but he didn't want to look like a big wimp in front of the kid. Then he remembered the whimpering and thought, fuck it. "There's a brown bottle on the kitchen sink that's got my name on it. Could you bring it to me and a glass of water?"

"Sure."

The kid got up off the floor and hurried out of the room, but Dief moved closer and nudged his hand with his nose. "Hey, you want a head rub?" Ray enjoyed petting Dief. He suddenly realized how much he'd missed doing that, something simple like running his fingers through the thick fur gave him a real charge and relaxed him at the same time. Jeremy showed up and Ray took the pill and drank all the water.

Ray put the glass on the table while Jeremy just stood there watching. He wasn't quite sure, but he had the feeling the kid wanted to say something else. "What? You got a question?"

"It's about you and Constable Fraser."

"Yeah?"

"Are you two married?"

Ray steeled himself for a bad reaction. He never knew how people might take the news. "Yeah, we are. Why?"

Jeremy sat down on the bed beside him and crossed his arms, making a big humpf sound of disappointment. "That sucks."

"Is that because we're both guys?"

Jeremy looked at him like he was crazy, but shook his head. "No, I just wanted Constable Fraser to be my dad, that's all. My mom needs somebody good and I thought —"

Ray finished his sentence. "And you thought that somebody might be Ben."

Flushed with embarrassment, Jeremy kept his arms crossed as he shrugged again. "My mom's a great person. Why can't she find anybody nice like him?"

"She'll find somebody nice and even if she doesn't, she's still a great mom, right? Not everybody has to be married to be a great parent."

"You don't understand." He sounded so forlorn, like his little heart was broken.

But Ray did understand, understood exactly what a kid wanted most. He wanted to be normal, or at least what he thought was normal, with a mum and dad living together, all happy and getting along like they did on those 50's TV reruns. On top of that, Ben would be a great dad, a super-duper dad that any kid would love to have. He'd take him camping, sledding, and curling and do all those Canadian things most Canadian kids wanted to do. "You wanted Fraser to be your dad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Well, just because he's married to me doesn't mean he can't be like a big brother to you."

"Big brother?"

"Yeah, you know, a guy who does stuff with you and takes you places. When Ben gets out of the hospital and is on his feet again, I'm sure he'd love to do all that stuff."

Jeremy suddenly perked up. "You really think so?"

"Sure. Do you like curling?"

"Curling's okay, but I like hockey better."

Ray patted the kid on the back and smiled. "You're my kind of kid, Jeremy. I think we can work something out."

Ray's hands shook by the time he finished the last phone call. It was bad enough to talk to all the people he'd worked with, but hearing Stella cry in relief as he finally convinced her he was okay, that did him in. He hung up and dropped his face to his hands, rubbing his eyes, wondering if his head would ever stop pounding. Jeremy sat at the kitchen table reading a book and Mimi put her hand on Ray's shoulder. "You should eat something and then go to bed."

"I'm not hungry."

"Doesn't matter. I'll heat some soup. You'll eat and then sleep."

"Bossy woman."

"Bossy and stronger than you right now."

"I'm really not hungry."

"You still need to eat."

Jeremy watched the back and forth exchange, eyes wide, like he couldn't believe Ray talked back to his mom like that. Ray realized the kid might not understand he was just kidding when he called his mom bossy, even though she was pushy as hell. He changed his tone. "I guess if you fix it, I'll try to eat it."

"That's the spirit."

While she heated the soup, Ray glanced over at Jeremy. "What are you reading?"

"THE HISTORY OF AVIATION by Carl Fuches."

"Okaaay. How old did you say you were again?"

Jeremy ignored the tease and explained why he was reading what amounted to a textbook instead of doing something a lot more fun like shooting hoops or hanging out with other kids his age. "It's all about how they first started building and flying planes. It's really interesting."

"If you say so, kid."

Jeremy closed the book. "You don’t like planes?"

"They're okay, but I prefer cars."

"Cars?"

"Yeah, you know, the things you drive."

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "I know what a car is."

"Good, because before long, you'll probably want to learn to drive one."

That got his interest. "You think you and Constable Fraser can teach me?"

"Sure, that is, if it's okay with your mom."

Mimi pitched in. "I've got no problem with it, but that's a few years down the road, young man."

"I know, Mom, but, wow, that'd be really cool." He picked up the book and stood up, still smiling. "I still like planes best though."

"Sure, I can see that."

Jeremy turned his attention back to his mother. "Can I watch TV now? There's a special on the Wright brothers on the Discovery Channel."

"Sure, go ahead."

As soon as he left, Mimi shook her head. "That boy and his planes."

"Every kid has to have a dream. With me it was cars, with Jeremy it's planes."

"I know. It's just so hard sometimes when you know that it's going to be hard for it to come true."

Ray frowned, not quite sure what she was getting at. "There's no reason Jeremy can't fly someday."

"Maybe. We'll see."

Before Ray had a chance to ask more, she served the soup with some crackers and a Sprite. Then she sat down next to him at the table with a cup of coffee. "We're going to stay the night with you, make sure you're settled in."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know. I'd just feel better if there were someone with you for a few days until you're a bit more steady on your feet." She motioned at the food. "Eat before it gets cold."

Ray managed a spoonful and then a bite of cracker. His stomach pitched a fit and he stopped. "I can't."

"Ray —"

"I'm serious. I can't, not right now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Maybe you'll feel like something in the morning."

"Yeah, maybe." They sat quietly at the table, hearing the commentary from the TV in the living room. After a few minutes, Ray asked, "Have you heard anything from the hospital?"

"Ben's doing fine, Ray. Eddie's sitting with him."

"He can't stay all night."

"Someone's going to be there all the time. Don't worry."

"It's a little hard not to worry. I want to be there."

"And he wants you there, but after you're better."

Ray covered his mouth with a fist, wanting to scream out in frustration. He hated being separated, not being there, but he also knew that this is what Ben wanted for now. The least he could do would be to go along with it. He calmed himself and changed the subject. "You need to take some of this food to the shelter. We appreciate it, but it's going to go to waste around here."

Nodding, she agreed. "I'll do that tomorrow after I drop you off at the hospital."

Impulsively, Ray reached over and took her hand. "Thanks for all you've done. You've been a really good friend."

"You're welcome." She squeezed his hand back and then nudged his shoulder. "You should go to bed now. Get some rest. It's going to be a long day at the hospital."

Ray nodded, knowing from experience that sitting at a bedside took a lot more patience than being in the bed.

"Ray, you really don't have to stay."

"You say that again and I might have to pop you one, Ben. I told you, I'm here for the duration, so get used to it."

Which is how the conversations went in between Ben's naps for about the next week. Luckily, they also had distractions like plenty of pictures of the cabin as Stevie kept them up-to-date on the progress. Ray couldn't believe how different the thing looked with double the space. It looked like a whole new place. He could hardly wait for Ben to hop out of bed so they could get their asses back out there.

They also had more visitors filtering in, too. Just about everybody came for short visits, just long enough to spell Ray so he could go to the can or go get coffee and come right back.

Then things changed drastically. By the eighth day, Ray was about to pull his hair out. Ben was suddenly worse, coughing and getting extra IV antibiotics for pneumonia. Apparently, chest wounds can do that even when they don't actually hit the lung. Fuck.

Ray paced the room while Ben slept and Egan walked in on him. He tapped Ray's shoulder. "Come with me. I need to take your stitches out."

Ray looked over at his sleeping partner, his stomach tight, all anxious. "Can't we do that here?"

Egan put his arms around Ray's shoulders and gave him a quick hug and release. "He'll be all right, Ray. Come on. You need a break."

Reluctantly, Ray followed him down the hall to another room. He sat on one of the exam tables while Egan put on some gloves. "Betty tells me you stayed in the room last night."

"He was sicker. I needed to stay."

Egan didn't argue, just took off the bandage on Ray's arm and took out the sutures. He washed it off with disinfectant before he added, "That'll be another scar to add to your collection."

Ray shrugged, not really caring about it one way or another. His arm didn't hurt nearly as bad as his leg. He'd stopped the physical therapy and he could sure tell a difference. When Ben got better, he'd start again, but at the moment, all he could do was stay with his partner.

Egan unwrapped Ray's other wound next, tilting his head as he checked the scalp with his thumbs. "This is healing up nicely. The hair's growing back, too. You won't even see this in a few weeks."

"Great. Is that it?"

"Not quite." Egan finished up and then removed his gloves. He washed his hands as he spoke. "If you want to stay in the room at night from now on, I won't stop you. However —"

"However what?" Ray was ready for a fight, ready to duke it out if he had to.

"He could be here for weeks, Ray. You need to get out, walk, eat more. You can't just stop living because Ben's ill. He wouldn't want that."

Ray got off the table, shaking his head. "We're done here."

"Ray —"

"No, I mean it. Everybody's trying to get me to leave, to just go on with my life like everything's fine, hunky-dory, like Ben's not fighting for every fucking breath. How can I not be here?"

"Believe me, Ray, I understand."

"Yeah, right."

"No, I do." Egan stepped closer, his voice softer. "My wife died a few years ago."

"Ben's not dying."

"I didn't say that he was. He's got every chance for survival. I'm just saying my wife was sick for a long time. I didn't want to believe that she could get better unless I was there, like my presence was what mattered the most."

"But you were glad you were there, right?"

"Yes."

"See? So, you understand, right? You know why I'm acting a little crazy here."

"I do. That doesn’t mean as an objective observer, that I can't point out that you really need to pace yourself. He's in for a long recovery."

"You said that already. I get it. This is going to take time. So what? I've got time, more time than I know what to do with, time I could give a shit about if Ben doesn't get better." Ray took a deep breath, keeping his panic in check, but just barely. "It's just —"

"Just what?"

"Ben's the strong one. He's never been sick like this before, not when I've been around. He was shot in the back once, but this, this is like nothing he's ever been through."

"I know. However, like you said, he's strong. He will get through this. It's just going to take some time. It's going to take a physical and emotional toll on both of you. That's why I really recommend that you try not to overdo it. Take some breaks, let people help you, Ray. They want to do whatever they can to make this easier and you need to take advantage of that."

Reluctantly, Ray admitted to himself that Egan made sense. "Look, I'll try. That's all I can do."

"That's all anybody can ask."

As Ray turned to leave, he stopped and turned, realizing he needed to say something else. "I'm sorry about your wife."

"Thank you."

"You two married long?"

"Twenty-eight years."

"Whoa, that's a lot of years."

"They were good years. I was very lucky for that, but it was still a tremendous loss."

"You're okay now though?"

Egan's eyes suddenly got a lot brighter, kind of shiny like right before a guy cries. "I think of her everyday, Ray, every single day, but I'm okay. I have to be. She'd want me to go on with my life, just like Ben would want you to go on with yours if anything should happen."

Ray's body went cold, like he'd been dumped into Lake Michigan in the winter, feet first. "But nothing's going to happen because he's going to get better, right?"

"There are no guarantees, Ray."

He didn't want to hear that, couldn't listen, no way, no how. "I'm going back to the room."

Egan didn't say another word as Ray left, heading down the hall, walking like he was dragging an extra ton or two around his heart.

Ray stayed day after day, night after night, and did what he could during all of Ben's treatments, the baths, changing the bandages, bedpans, the whole respiratory whatsis with the smoke and hissy sounds, but he had to leave when they suctioned Ben's lungs. That was something he just couldn't handle. Just the choking and sucking sounds made him gag, not to mention the smell and the color of the stuff coming out. No wonder Ben couldn’t fucking breathe. It all made Ray want to just throw up and be done with it.

Ray paced the hall, hunched over like a little old man, one arm around his stomach, the other fisted at his mouth as he waited for the nurse to leave. Inspector Hathaway came down the hall and stood beside him. "How's he doing?"

"He spiked a fever, but that's down. Still can't breathe worth shit, though. They've put him on another antibiotic and it seems to be working."

Hathaway motioned towards the room. "What are they doing now?"

"They've got some kind of vacuum cleaner thing to suck out all the gunk in his lungs." Ray shuddered, the idea of all that yellow and green stuff just too nasty to think about, especially when he remembered all the gasping and wheezing Ben had done through the night as he struggled to take in air.

"I'm sure they're doing all they can, Ray."

"Yeah, I know. So, what's going on with the case? Any news on Bullweather?"

Hathaway's expression darkened. "I wanted to tell both of you at the same time, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you first."

"Tell me what?"

"A warrant's being drawn up for his arrest. It's before the judge right now to be signed so we can execute it tonight."

Ray couldn't help but smile and do a little victory yelp. "Yes!" Then he stopped grinning from ear to ear and asked, "So, what made the difference?"

Before Hathaway could answer, the nurse came out of the room. "He's asking for you, Ray."

As Ray put his hand on the door, she added, "Convince him to rest. He needs to sleep more than anything right now."

"Sure, sure, I'll do that. Thanks, Lizzie." Ray went inside with Hathaway right behind him. Ben lifted a hand in greeting, a weak smile on his lips, but didn't say anything. Ray moved to the side of the bed and took his hand, squeezing gently, and then kissing Ben's forehead as he smoothed back his hair. "Inspector Hathaway here has some good news. They're going to arrest Bullweather."

The smile disappeared, but Ray saw the pain flash in Ben's eyes. His partner swallowed hard, his voice raspy and hoarse. "What did you find?"

Hathaway stood at the end of the bed, his face serious. "We were able to get a search warrant and found letters."

Still holding on to Ray's hand like a lifeline, Ben asked, "What kind of letters?"

"There were a lot of them, but the only ones that are applicable here are the ones from Bullweather to Norman. Bullweather doesn't specifically ask Norman to do the shooting, but Norman clearly indicates his intention. Bullweather knew what Norman was going to do long before he did it and did nothing to report or stop it."

It was Ray's turn to talk. "Will it be enough? What's the charge?"

"Right now we're going for conspiracy to commit murder on two counts since you were wounded as well."

Ray kissed Ben's hand, glad to hear that the guy wasn't going to skate on some charge that couldn't stick. "When do you arrest the guy?"

"This evening. His lawyer's been contacted. He can either surrender himself to the authorities by six or we'll go to his residence."

Ben blinked several times, biting his lower lip before he finally spoke quietly. "He's a proud man."

Hathaway's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that I don't think he'll submit to an arrest."

"You think he'll flee, try to leave the country or go into hiding?"

"Possibly. I'm not sure."

"Don't worry. The people in Ottawa have surveillance on his house. He's not going anywhere, not until they go to arrest him."

Ray asked, "So, will they do the trial in Ottawa or here?"

"The crime occurred in Yellowknife, so he'll be transferred and go before a judge here."

Ray liked that answer fine. He could hardly wait to get that Bullweather's ass behind bars. "How long before the trial?"

"That's up to the other half of the legal system. I'm just glad we able to find the letters. His own words will bury him."

"As so often happens." Ben's words came out soft and wheezy.

Ray brushed back the damp hair from his forehead, Ben's skin still too warm from the fever. "It'll be okay. He'll pay for what he's done."

Eyes closed, Ben didn't answer, just squeezed a little tighter on Ray's hand. Sick as he was, Ben had one hell of a grip.

Hathaway added his own little editorial. "Let's hope the lawyers make a deal. If they do, the letters and your connection to Bullweather won't go public. However, that's all down the road. We'll get him under wraps first and make sure all our evidence is foolproof. I want that bastard to pay for what he's done, both to you and the good name of the service."

Ray knew the feeling, wanted Bullweather to rot in jail somewhere until he was shriveled up like a dried up old prune, all wrinkled and dusty and getting a taste of his own medicine if fate had anything to do with it. He wondered how many helpless young guys he'd hurt, wondered if being in prison would give him even an inkling of what it was like to be battered and preyed upon like he'd done to Ben and who knows how many others.

Hathaway interrupted his thoughts. "I need to go, but I wanted to give you an update."

"Thanks. We appreciate that."

Ben nodded, but stayed quiet, his eyes closed, still holding on for dear life to Ray's hand. When Hathaway left, Ray leaned in and whispered, "It's almost over, Ben. He'll pay for what he's done."

"I don't really care about that, Ray."

"You nearly got killed because Warfield slapped a waiter, but you don't care about getting even with the guy who nearly killed us both? I don't get that." Angry, Ray snapped, "What about justice and doing the right thing, all that being on the side of righteousness you're always talking about? What about that?"

Ben finally opened his eyes, his expression filled with both pain and terrible sadness. "I'm tired, Ray. I don't want to fight."

"I'm not fighting. I'm just asking. What is it about this guy that makes it seem like you don't even want him to get caught, much less get punished?"

"He'll be punished, Ray, but not by the system."

"What?"

Ben's eyes shut again and his grip loosened. "I'm just so tired, Ray. I need to sleep."

"Okay, okay, get some shuteye. I'll be here when you wake up."

Ben didn't answer, his hand already limp in Ray's. Swallowing hard, not having a clue about what Ben meant, Ray gave up trying to figure it out. That puzzle would wait. Right now all he wanted was for Ben to get stronger, to bounce back, to give it that old Mountie try one more time.

Ray knew for a fact that hospital time wasn't the same as real time. The minutes stretched to hours, the hours to days. He figured he'd be at least grey-haired and eighty in hospital years by the time they finally got around to springing his partner. Time stretched like a big rubber band, sometimes super thin and taking forever and other times, snapping back, blurry as hell, it went by so fast. Blink and suddenly it was the next day or night, but it didn't much matter, because he'd still be waiting. He'd never been good at waiting, but he could do stubborn. He had to hang in there and outwit his own nervous brain by just focusing on Ben and pretending to see the future, all bright and shiny, just around the corner.

Ray also understood exactly what Ben had meant about the smell of rotting caribou being almost hallucinogenic. Hospital stink sometimes worked the same way, too, spinning his head and his perceptions to a whole different space. Sometimes when he fell asleep, he woke up all sweaty and shaking, looking around for rotting corpses. It took a few minutes to get his head back together, soaking in the light and shadows of Ben's sleeping face just to orient himself again.

Sometimes Ray sat so long that his skinny ass hurt and other times he'd walk the corridors at night when it was supposed to be quiet, but never was. He'd listen to the beeps and the moans, the cries, the flush of the toilet in the other rooms, the giggles at the nurses' station. Daytime was even worse in some ways, with cleaning staff and rounds, and some sounds so awful, he didn't want to name them. Who the fuck could sleep with all that noise? The thing was, Ben did, but then again, Ben was drugged to the gills. That made all the difference.

A couple of nights, the nurses made popcorn and offered Ray some. He tried to eat, but only got down a few kernels before flushing away the rest. Watching Fraser took all his energy and eating took away from that. Just thinking about food made his gut hurt.

After the news about Bullweather and the letters, Ben slept fitfully while Ray paced, too anxious and worried to settle down. He wished he could be there when the cops showed up and arrested his sorry ass. In his head, he was standing on the front porch like he had a million times before to take the guy in, to throw his ass behind bars, and book him. Ray's fingers ached to type out the reports and turn in all the paperwork. Ray envied the lucky dogs who got to do all that.

Of course, the Mounties who arrested Bullweather probably wouldn't feel the same way. The guy was another Mountie and it hurt like hell to arrest one of your own, even when he deserved it. Ray knew about that, too, thinking about Franklin, about how the guy threw away his right to be called a cop by killing another cop and being willing to take out a lot of others to keep it quiet, including Ray and Beth Boutrelle. Bullweather was even worse. He'd preyed on young Mounties like Ben just starting out, and he'd done it for years without getting caught. Abuse turned to murder and now he had to pay the piper, face the judge, go up the river, or wherever they went to in Canada.

Around eleven, Hathaway showed up again, only this time he looked about as pale as Ben did. He motioned for Ray to come into the hall and he obeyed. Once there, Hathaway could hardly get the words out. "It's a disturbing situation."

"What? What happened? Did Bullweather get violent and shoot somebody or something?"

Hathaway answered, but it was like talking to himself, not looking at Ray at all. "He was already dead when the detectives arrived. He shot himself in the head, no note, nothing to explain it."

"Fuck." The world spun a little bit and the next thing Ray knew, Hathaway had him by the arm, guiding him to the floor. Once there, Ray sat with his legs up and his head down, Hathaway's hand at the back of his neck.

"Stay put. I'll get a nurse."

"I'm okay."

"Oh, for god sakes, shut up and listen for once and stay put."

Ray followed orders, his face in his hands, wondering what the fuck it took to make a guy put a bullet in his brain. He'd been there, been on that shifty edge a time or two himself, so he knew from experience how fucking dark it got right before the final decision came. Bullweather stepped over that point, dropped into the pit of no return. It wasn't that he gave a shit about the guy, but he had a really bad feeling that Ben knew about it, knew that's what Bullweather had planned all along. That's what he'd meant about he'd be punished, but not by the system. Ben knew and didn't say anything. Fuck.

Lizzie was still on duty and gave him a damp cloth and some orange juice. Ray drank it and then let Hathaway and the nurse help him up off the floor and into a chair she'd brought with her. He sat there a few moments before he complained. "I'm okay now."

Concerned, Hathaway asked, "When was the last time you ate anything?"

Ray didn't even pretend to think hard to come up with an answer. He just shook his head. "I don't know. It's been a while. I'm not hungry."

"This can't go on, young man. You're making yourself sick with worry."

"I'm fine."

"I can clearly see that." Hathaway turned toward the nurse. "Thank you. I'll take it from here."

Lizzie didn't leave right away. Instead, she leaned in and put a hand on Ray's shoulder. "You should eat and then go home and rest, Ray. Gloria comes on at midnight. We'll take extra special care of him."

"Thanks, but I'm not leaving."

She sighed heavily and gave Hathaway a quick shrug and a what the fuck can you do look before walking away. Hathaway wasn't having any of it. Once they were alone, he squeezed Ray's shoulder. "I'm taking you home, son."

His face hot, his anger finally having a target, Ray snapped, "You and whose army?"

"I don’t need an army. Let's go talk to Constable Fraser."

"He's asleep and we're not waking him up for this shit. I'll tell him in the morning."

"He'd want to know now."

Ray stood up, still shaking his head, his body kind of rubbery. "I'm sure he would, but it can wait until morning. Bullweather will still be dead then, right? A few hours won't make a difference." Ray's voice softened as the anger drained away, replaced by a cold wash of reality. Ben would blame himself, would feel guilty for not saying anything, for not warning Hathaway of the possibility. That could kick Ben's recovery in the head, put it on hold, make things a lot harder. "I don't suppose there's a chance in hell we could get around telling him at all, huh?"

"Short of lying to him, no." Hathaway cocked his head to the side and studied Ray for a moment. It made Ray uneasy, like he was a perp or something, a guy on the other side of the law. Ray realized he'd have made an awful criminal, because that I'll make you talk no matter what look made his skin crawl. "Why wouldn't you want him to know? Do you think he still had feelings for the man?"

"Of course he has feelings, but not the way you think. This guy did a number on him way back when. He still feels guilty even though it wasn't his fault, you know? That's what assholes like Bullweather count on."

"I understand. That still doesn't mean we can keep this from him. He has to be told. It's going to be a media circus once it gets out that a superintendent shot himself while under investigation for sexual misconduct in addition to the conspiracy charges."

Ray frowned, not sure if he'd heard right. "Sexual misconduct? You didn't say anything about that before."

"That's because we were still investigating. We had two young male officers who served under Bullweather come forward to make complaints and the lawyers were trying to decide whether we had enough to go forward. Once he was in custody for his role in the shooting, we were going to delve further into that."

"Shit. No wonder the guy offed himself."

"Possibly, but suicide is never the answer."

Ray didn't say anything to that, too caught up with the implications of what Hathaway said. Two more officers came forward, which meant there were probably a lot more in the woodwork and that Ben would've likely been called to give evidence to support their stories. The bullet that killed Bullweather was the bullet they dodged. Ben couldn't take that kind of spotlight on his history, on his personal tragedy. For the first time since he heard the news, he was glad the guy had eaten his gun and saved them all a hell of a lot of heartache.

"Ray?"

Shaking his head to focus again, Ray asked, "What?"

"I'm putting a guard outside the door. I don’t want reporters anywhere near Constable Fraser."

"We haven't had any trouble so far."

"That was before Bullweather killed himself. Some reporter's bound to sniff out the story now. We need to protect him and I plan to do that. Everyone close to you knows not to talk to the press, but sometimes reporters are like a virus, they get in even when you try to protect yourself."

Ray rubbed the back of his neck and agreed. "Viral press, I get that."

"The local news people have been warned off, but that doesn't mean that they'll listen or they won't call in associates. This is one of those cases where I want to head off trouble before it gets started. I've asked for volunteers to man the watch. It shouldn't be a problem. In the meantime, you should get some rest."

"Look, I'm all right, really. It was a shock hearing that about Bullweather after all that's happened, you know? You go and do what you have to do, set up guards, whatever. I'm staying here and I'll tell him in the morning, okay?"

Hathaway hesitated, obviously torn between hauling Ray's ass out of there and causing a scene or just letting it go, allowing Ray to do the dirty work of breaking the news. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Ben will take it better from me."

"Still, it's a lot to ask. Technically, I should be the one —"

"Fuck technically. He's my partner and I'll tell him what happened."

The inspector waited just a few moments and then reluctantly nodded. "Very well. You should also know, however, that while this closes the investigation for the shooting, it might not be the end of things for the sexual misconduct situation."

"The guy's dead. What's to investigate?"

"It's been mentioned that others knew about Bullweather's activities and behavior, but did nothing to stop it. If that's the case, there might be an inquiry. Others could be charged as accessories in the misconduct."

"You want my vote, let it go."

"Unfortunately, the crown doesn't recognize your vote, Ray."

"Shows you how much they know." Ray took a deep breath, his head aching and his belly all knotted. "Look, I need to get in there. I'll tell him first thing in the morning about Bullweather eating his gun. I'm not telling him about the other and I don't want you to until you're sure, okay?"

"Understood." Hathaway didn't walk away, but studied him for an extra heartbeat before he added, "You need to take care of yourself to take care of him, Ray."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved the man off, his other hand on the door. "Go head off the press. Ben doesn't need anymore shit in his life."

"I'll be back in the morning."

"I'll be here."

Ben turned the corner around three in the morning. Ray actually saw it happen, or heard it more like. Ben's breathing eased up, no longer labored or wheezy. He relaxed and finally slipped into a deep sleep that lasted even through nurses coming in for vitals. It lasted until daybreak, when Ben finally snuffled, opened his eyes, and then focused on Ray. His voice still sounded rough, but clearer, more like Ben than it had since he'd been shot. "Good morning."

"Morning, sleepyhead." Ray stood up and leaned against the steel railing, teasing Ben's bed head with his fingers. "How you feeling?"

"Remarkably better, considering."

"You sound better. You're breathing pretty good today and there's no fever."

Ben captured Ray's hand and drew it to his lips, kissing it. "You look exhausted."

"It's been a long night."

"You should go home."

"Don't start."

Ben kissed his hand again and instead of arguing like usual, he simply said, "Could you please lift the head of the bed slightly?"

"Sure." Ray pushed the button, raising the head from the forty-five degree angle to slightly higher, so that Ben was nearly upright. Ben groaned, releasing Ray's hand and holding his chest. "Too much?"

"No, that's fine. I’m just sore."

"You need more drugs?"

"No, I want to ease off some of the drugs, clear my head."

"Yeah, you say that now, but wait until the pain kicks your ass. You'll sing a different tune."

"That might well be true, but I'd like to try. I don't want to become too dependent."

"You won't."

Ben met his gaze and shook his head. "You don't know that, Ray. You know my history."

"That was BRK."

Ben's brow wrinkled in confusion. "BRK?"

"Before Ray Kowalski. You've got me now." Ray leaned his elbows on the metal railing, wearing his best smirk. "I’m all the strong medicine you need."

Grinning for the first time in ages, Ben's pale face brightened. "Right you are, Ray." He reached for Ray's hand again, squeezing it. "You are, indeed, strong medicine."

Ray's voice softened. "You scared me, Ben."

"I scared myself."

"Yeah, I get that."

Ben squeezed Ray's hand again in reassurance. "I really do feel much better this morning, Ray, stronger."

"Yeah, breathing on a regular basis will do that."

"True enough."

As good as Ben looked, as improved as he was, Ray hated to spoil the party, but knew he had to, knew Ben needed to know. "Look, I've got something to tell you, some news about the case."

Ben's smile faded, replaced with that face he got when he knew shit was going to hit the fan. "What is it?"

No reason to pull any punches, Ray just came straight out with it. "Bullweather shot himself."

Ben's eyes widened slightly, but then he nodded, accepting the news pretty easily, too easily. "I see." Ray bit his lip, not sure whether he should say anything or stay quiet about his suspicions. Ben saved him the trouble. "I was afraid he might do that."

Ray braced himself on the railing, a little lightheaded, his world a little tilted. "How come you didn't say anything?"

"I had no proof."

"But maybe —"

"What? Maybe if I'd said something, they might have gotten to him in time to stop it?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Ray, I said before, Joshua was a proud man. He was, but he was also a coward. A man doesn't do what he did to me and others and not live with a constant fear of discovery and humiliation."

"I understand that, but —"

"Joshua made his own choice."

Ray sat down before he fell down. He settled into the chair before he spoke, his words all breathy and kind of scared. He'd never seen this side of his partner before, not ever, not this cold, anyway. "You're saying it was okay he killed himself? That it's okay that you didn't tell anyone ahead of time so we could've stopped it?"

"I'm saying a man makes his own choices, Ray. Joshua did what he felt he needed to do. Why should I feel guilty for suspecting he might take that action and keeping it to myself?"

"Because you could've stopped it?"

"Possibly."

The reason hit Ray like a solid punch to the jaw. "But you didn't want to."

"It wasn't my place to do so."

"Shit."

"You're upset."

"And you're not."

"No, not really. Actually, I'm strangely relieved. It's odd, really."

Odd didn't even cover it, not by a long shot. Trembling, Ray stood up. "I need to take a walk."

"Ray, why are you so upset? I thought you wanted Joshua to be punished."

"Yeah, yeah, I did, but not like this, not getting off easy."

"You think killing himself was easy?"

"Compared to what he'd go through if he went on trial and then to prison, yeah, I do. But that's not it, that's not why I'm upset."

"Why then?"

Ray stared at him, thinking it had to be getting shot, all the shock and all the drugs, and not getting enough oxygen to his brain or something. The Ben he knew would be torn up by hearing about shit like this, about a guy killing himself, even if the guy was a first class pig. "You just surprise me, that's all. I expected you to be upset and feeling guilty."

"And because I'm not, you think that makes me callous?"

"Callous?"

"Insensitive, hard-hearted, without feeling."

"I fucking know what callous means, Ben, and you're none of those things."

"What then?"

"You're not yourself."

Ben never looked away, his gaze as steady as his voice. "I assure you, I'm very much myself, Ray. Joshua's death has nothing to do with me."

Ray stood there an extra beat or two, but then he walked out without saying another word. He walked out past the Mountie guard placed there by Hathaway, down the corridor to the stairs, and ended up running out the side door to the parking lot. It took him four laps around the building before he stopped. He leaned against the bricks, his head back and his eyes closed, wondering if he really knew his partner at all.

Ray sat in the cafeteria drinking coffee and wishing to hell it was whiskey instead. He didn't smoke anymore, either, but he sure would've killed for cigarette to clear his head. Chris Frame settled into the seat across from him. "You look like shit."

"Good morning to you, too."

"You okay?"

Lifting the Styrofoam cup to his lips, Ray shrugged. "Fine and dandy. The coffee sucks, but it's warm."

"Fraser said you left an hour ago. What's going on? What's got you so wound up?"

"You heard about Bullweather?"

"Yeah, so? I figure that's one less sicko in the world. You upset that he offed himself?"

"No, not really." Ray put his cup down and then rubbed his face with both hands, not really sure what to say. It's like his brain wouldn't work anymore. "Guess I'm just tired."

"Let me take you home. Fraser's a lot better. You don't have to be here night and day."

For the first time since it all happened, Ray decided it might be better to take a break, to let Ben heal some on his own, to work out his own peace about what happened. What Ben felt or didn't feel about Bullweather really wasn't his business. Hell, if Ben could deal with it, why the fuck should it make any difference to him how Ben reacted?

Chris touched his hand and Ray jerked back, annoyed at himself for drifting off like that. "What?"

"You're asleep on your feet, or in this case, in your seat. Let's go tell Fraser we're leaving and I'll drive you to the house."

Ray drained the cold, bitter liquid in his cup and nodded. "Yeah, okay."

A flicker of surprised flashed across Chris's face, but he didn't say anything, just stood up and followed behind Ray as they found the elevator. As they rode up, they both remained quiet. When they approached the door, Ray recognized the Mountie standing guard. He was young, dark-haired, and only mid-twenties, but he'd been at the picnic with his wife Janet and baby boy Davy. "Hey, it's Carlson, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"You been here all night?"

"Yes, sir, but my relief should be here shortly. We're taking eight hour shifts for the duration."

"We appreciate that, me and Fraser. You don’t have to call me sir, either. I'm just Ray."

"Thank you, sir." Carlson faltered and grinned. "I mean, Ray, sir."

Ray rolled his eyes and patted him on the shoulder. "Nice try." Once a Mountie, always a Mountie. He walked into the room and saw Ben lying there, fresher than before, newly bandaged, his face clean and shaved for the first time in several days. Concern washed out his partner's features though, made his eyes all pinched. "Ray. It's so good to see you. I wondered, that is to say —"

"I'm okay, Ben. Just needed some air, that's all."

"I would imagine being cooped up here for days on end has been rather unnerving."

Chris motioned his thumb at the door. "I'll just wait outside."

Ben nodded. "Thank you, Chris."

As soon as the other man left, Ben started talking really fast. "Ray, I'm so sorry. I know you must think me a terrible person to —"

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut up." Ray stepped closer to the bed, leaning in, his body nearly at the end of its reserve. The rail was down on the right side and he sat on the edge of the mattress, taking Ben's hand carefully in his own and resting it on his knee. "I don't think you're a terrible person. Nothing you could ever say or do would ever make me think that. I'm just wiped out, that's all."

"I know you are. You should let Chris take you home."

"I am in a minute."

Ben looked shocked, but relieved all at the same time. "I'm so glad. You need to rest."

Still holding Ben's hand with both his own, Ray shut his eyes as he spoke, his words choked and wet. "I've been out of my head with worry, Ben. Seeing you here, all sick and helpless, it did something to me deep inside."

"What did it do, Ray?"

Ray opened his eyes and gazed at Ben, saw him and realized exactly what he had to say. "It made me realize that I love you more than any person I've ever known."

Ben relaxed, like he'd been expecting something else, and smiled. "I love you, too."

"I know you do. It's just sometimes the love I have for you is so fucking enormous, it's huge, bigger than me, bigger than anything I can control."

"Love isn't about control."

"I know that. I just don't know what I'd do without you, is all I'm saying."

"With any luck, you'll never find out."

Carefully, Ray leaned in and kissed him. He made sure not to press against the bandage, but he needed that mouth-to-mouth contact, to feed on Ben's breath, to taste him on his own tongue. When he pulled back, he smiled and cupped Ben's cheek. "I'll be back later tonight. You want me to bring you anything?"

"Your return will suffice."

"Nothing else?" Ben hesitated, so Ray pushed. "Give. What do you want?"

"Tea. The stuff they serve here is abysmal."

"Tea it is."

As he stood to leave, Ben held on to his hand. "Ray, I'm truly sorry about earlier."

"Forget about it. You feel the way you feel. Just get some rest and I'll be back this evening, okay?"

"That'll be fine." As Ben released his hand, he asked, "Ray, why is there a guard at the door?"

"Hathaway's afraid of reporters sneaking in."

"Reporters? Why on earth —"

"Bullweather was a superintendent. Hathaway thinks some newshound is bound to sniff out a connection between his suicide and the shooting. He's just being careful."

"I hadn't even considered the possibility."

"Well, you've had a few things on your mind, like breathing and staying alive."

Ben smiled and nodded. "Quite right."

"It's going to be fine, Ben. You just rest and I'll be back in a few hours."

"Later then."

"You should get a shower while I fix some breakfast. Then you can go to bed."

"Who are you, my mother?"

Chris took Ray's bad mood in stride as he searched for the spatula. "Just a friend."

Ray grabbed up the pink memos by the phone and sat down at the table. "Look, I'm not hungry. I'm going to make a few calls and hit the sack. You don't have to stay."

"I know that, but we both have to eat. Might as well do it together."

Looking through the messages, Ray stopped at an unfamiliar name. "Who the fuck is Harrison Brown?"

"He's a local reporter. Does the six o'clock news."

Ray wadded up the slip and tossed it to the wastebasket. "Fuck him."

"Ray —"

"What?"

"I hate to be blunt, but you stink."

Looking up, Ray stared in surprise. "I stink?"

"Reek, more like. When was the last time you took a shower?"

Without thinking, Ray sniffed his right armpit and made a face. "Whew. Too long, I guess. Shit. Why didn't somebody say something?"

"Take a shower. I'll fix eggs. You like yours scrambled or fried?"

"Scrambled."

Dead on his feet, Ray scrubbed his whiskery face with both hands. "I don't think I've ever been this tired."

Chris put down the frying pan and sat across from Ray. "Listen, he's doing a lot better. You can take a break. Nobody's asking you to be Superman here."

Instead of being pissed or defensive, Ray sighed and crossed his arms. "He did look better, huh?"

"A lot better. He's going to make it."

Out of nowhere, Ray's eyes stung and a tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't even bother to hide it. "Yeah, yeah, he is."

"You didn't believe it before?"

"I told myself I did, but I guess not. I was just holding my breath, holding on, praying like shit that Egan and the others weren't just saying that to keep me going." Ray got up and grabbed a paper towel, blowing his nose, and then tossing it away. "Guess I should get that shower, huh?"

"Yeah, go ahead. Wash, get changed. It'll be ready when you're done."

Nodding, sort of on automatic pilot, Ray headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stripped off. The water hit his body, warm and soothing as he soaped up. Eyes closed, still leaking tears, he thanked god that Ben was better, that he'd be okay. It's all that kept him going.

Muscles all weak and kind of rubbery, Ray washed up and shampooed his hair in record time. He got out, grabbed a towel, and headed to the bedroom. When he got there, he stood stock still and frowned. Something was queer. The bed was messed up and the drawers open. Even if Jeremy had sneaked in for a nap, he'd have left the place neater than that.

Cop senses kicked on line and he called out. "Hey, Chris, get in here for a minute."

A few seconds later, Chris walked in. "What's going on?"

"This place look tossed to you?"

"Now that you mention it, yeah."

"Son of a bitch."

"Anything missing?"

"I don't know yet. I just wanted a second opinion. Let me get dressed and I'll check."

"Sure."

Chris returned to the kitchen as Ray threw on some underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt. He took a quick inventory, checking the lockbox and papers, and then scratched his head. He walked into the kitchen barefooted. "Whoever it was, they didn't take anything, at least not in the bedroom."

"I checked the other rooms and nothing seems to be gone. The TV and computers are still there."

Ray sat down as Chris put the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of him with some orange juice and coffee. "So not your typical break in then. Maybe that's what Canadians do, just come in, mess stuff up, and then look around."

Chris joined him at the table with his own plate of food. "It might not be a break in. Maybe Jeremy came over with the wolf or something while you were gone. I mean, it is his sister's house and you haven't been here for days. Could be anything. There's no reason to jump to conclusions."

"I guess." Ray sipped the coffee and grimaced. "Where the hell did you get decaf?"

"How could you tell it was decaf?"

"Believe me, I can tell."

Chris grinned and shook his head. "I told Eddie it was a waste of time. You were a cop. Cops always know."

"You better believe it."

"He thought it'd be better for you than the real stuff."

"Think again."

"Sorry, but that's all we've got for now. I'll get some high octane brand for later."

"Sure, okay." Ray ate his bacon and some of his eggs, washing it down with some juice. "This is good. Thanks. Guess I was more hungry than I thought."

"I can imagine. You look like you've dropped a few pounds since this whole thing started."

Ray just shrugged, not really caring one way or another about the weight. He ate, he didn't eat, it didn't much matter to him most days, especially when Ben was sick. Now that Ben was better, he might be able to keep some food down, but he wasn't going to push it. "I'm going to give Mimi a call, see if she knows anything about the mess in the bedroom."

Chris handed him the phone and Ray dialed the diner number. Mimi answered. "Mimi's Place. How can I help you?"

"Hey, it's Ray. Ben's better. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Thank god. That's great news. You at the hospital?"

"No, I'm at the house. I've got a question."

"Sure, what?"

"Nothing's missing, but the bedroom's a wreck. Drawers pulled out, the bed unmade and I didn't leave it like that. You know what's going on?"

"No, but I can find out. I'll call a couple of neighbors and see if they've seen anyone go in or out of the house who shouldn't be there. You want me to call you back when I find something out?"

"No, I'll call you. I'm going to try to get some sleep and go back to the hospital tonight."

"About time, too. You think Ben's up to eating something from the diner yet?"

"He wanted some tea."

"I can do that. I'll take him some soup, too." Ray heard the clamor of dishes and orders in the background. "I have to go. Rest and I'll see to Ben, okay?"

"Sure. Later."

Ray hung up, still wondering who the hell broke in and didn't take anything. Chris echoed his thoughts. "It could've been reporters."

"Breaking and entering, though? I thought only American reporters pulled that shit."

"I think it's the nature of the beast regardless of nationality."

"Could be. I don't know. I'm too wiped out to think about it or even give a shit." Ray stood up, motioning at the dishes. "Thanks for the meal. I'll do those later. Right now, I'm going to bed."

"Don't worry about it. I do the dishes and lock up."

Ray didn’t even have enough energy to answer. He went down the hall, stripped off his baggy jeans, and dropped into bed. He grabbed Ben's pillow and took a deep breath, hoping to get a whiff of his partner's scent, but it was very faint. He still hugged it, though, and dropped off into an uneasy sleep, one that kept him running down one white hallway after another, looking for Ben's room, listening to Mort's voice singing his funny little death songs behind every door.

Ray walked into the hospital room to find Mimi and Hathaway talking to Ben. Ben's face lit up when he saw him. "Ray!"

"Hey, Ben. How you doing?"

"Much better, thank you."

Hathaway interrupted. "Sorry, Constable, but I need to talk to Ray outside for a moment."

"About what, sir?"

Hathaway gave Ben the I'm your boss, so don't ask look. "It'll only take a minute."

Wounded or not, Ben didn't buy it, didn't go along. "Whatever you say to Ray, you can say to me, sir."

Ray threw in his two cents. "Yeah, I agree. Might as well put all the cards on the table and in the open."

"If you insist."

Ben said, "I do."

"Well, there are two things, really. The first is that Ms. LeBeau tells me the neighbors saw a young man go into her daughter's house last night after dark. When I questioned them, they didn't want to say who it was, but I got a Ms. Davenport to admit that she got a good look at his face and it was a local reporter —"

"Harrison Brown?"

All eyes turned on Ray, but it was Hathaway who asked, "You know Brown?"

"He called, left a message. Chris Frame said he was a reporter for the local news."

Mimi nodded and used her best pissed off voice. "He is, but he's got no right going into Susan's house, no right at all." She turned to Hathaway. "Isn't that trespassing or something? Can I swear out a complaint?"

"You could, but since nothing was taken and he's a celebrity, it might be better if I just had a conversation with the man. If I have to, I can use the threat of complaint as leverage to get him to back off whatever story he's pursuing."

Ben interrupted. "Are you saying this reporter broke into the house where Ray's staying?"

"I was here at the hospital, Ben, and nothing was stolen."

"You're sure?"

"Positive." Ray knew Ben was worried most about his private papers, papers Ben had checked were safe first. "Everything's still there. I'm not even sure what the guy was looking for."

Hathaway answered, "Letters, most likely."

"What kind of letters?" Hathaway and Ray exchanged glances and Ben asked again, more concerned. "What kind of letters would he want, Ray?"

Ray stepped closer to the bed. "You know those letters between Bullweather and Norman? I figure they might think you've got some letters, too."

"Dear god. Is there no respect for privacy anymore?"

Ray touched his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Not with reporters, but don't get upset. It's okay."

"It's certainly not okay, Ray. This man trespassed, went through our things."

Mimi wasn't happy, either. "The little rat. He'd better not come into the diner again, not if he knows what's good for him."

Hathaway moved closer to the bed, too, this time making sure Ben knew he meant business. "I assure you, he's not going to get away with anything, Constable."

Ben accepted that, but Ray could tell he wasn't happy. Ben licked his lower lip and then asked, "What was the other thing, Inspector?"

"Other thing?"

"Yes, you said there were two things to discuss."

Hathaway shifted uneasily before he finally spoke to Mimi. "Ms. LeBeau, could you excuse us, please. This is official business."

"Okay, but I'll be back." She waved at Ben and Ray. "I'll bring Jeremy up in a little bit. If we're lucky, maybe we can convince them to let Diefenbaker come up, too."

"Good luck." Ray knew they'd made a lot of accommodations for him over the last two weeks, but they drew the line at the wolf, at least so far. Maybe Mimi would have a better chance now that Ben was so much better.

Once she was gone, Hathaway got back to business. "I told Ray that there have been two young officers who've filed sexual misconduct complaints against Bullweather."

Ben kept his eyes on Hathaway, but Ray could tell he was not happy that Ray had known and hadn't said anything. "Will there be an investigation even though the Superintendent is dead?"

"We thought there might be, but the Commissioner wants Bullweather's death to be the end of it. Unless the officers pursue it by way of a private lawyer, of which there's little chance, I don't see this as being a problem."

Relieved, Ray asked, "So, it's done, over, no more shit hanging over our heads?"

"Well, unless some reporter digs up the reports, the whole thing should die down. At least, that’s what I sincerely hope."

"Yeah, me, too."

Ben didn't say anything right away, but when he did, his voice was strained. "The two young officers, will there be problems for them for filing the report?"

"I should think not."

"Inspector, you and I both know that by even filing such a report, it opens up a whole cache of problems for those young people. They might suffer from retribution from his family or even from their peers."

Hathaway stood with his hands behind his back, looking a lot more haggard than he had when he'd first met him. The guy had been through a lot, had done whatever he could to make things better. Grimly, he nodded in agreement. "Unfortunately, that might happen. I can only hope that's not the case. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that it doesn't adversely affect them in any way."

Ben closed his eyes, his skin pale again. "Thank you."

"You get some rest, Constable. I'm going to go talk to this reporter and get him sorted out."

Ray held out a hand. "Thanks."

Hathaway shook his hand. "You're welcome. I'll let you know what I find out."

As soon as he left, Ray sat down on the edge of Ben's bed, his hand gently placed over the bandage that wrapped his chest. "He didn't get the journal, Ben."

"What if he photographed it or copied it in some way?"

"It wasn't disturbed."

Ben opened his eyes, still fearful. "You're sure?"

"Hathaway never gave me back my gun. So, I put your journal in the lockbox. I'm the only one with a key and it was still there and unopened, no marks."

"I should burn it."

"Burn your journal?"

"Yes. If anyone should read it, I'd be mortified."

"Anybody who'd read somebody's private journal without permission is scum, Ben."

"I agree, but —"

"Relax. It's okay. Whatever you wrote or thought about is your own business. Writing that thing helped you through some tough times. There's no reason to get rid of it."

"I wrote some horrible things, Ray."

"So what? I've thought some pretty terrible things, too."

"But you didn't write them down."

"Only because I can't write as good as you."

"Ray —"

"No, I'm serious. Forget about the reporter. It's over. Hathaway will set the little shit straight, and if he doesn't, I'll sic Mimi on him. That should get his ass chewed, but good."

"As well it should."

Ray caressed Ben's cool cheek, happy to know there wasn't even a trace of fever. "You miss me?"

"I did."

"Good. So, what did you do today?"

"I sat up on the side of the bed on my own."

Ray shot him a big toothy grin. "That's progress."

"Yes, it is, and I'd probably celebrate if I hadn't embarrassed myself by nearly falling over."

"You fell?"

"No, but I made the mistake of trying to stand up without assistance."

"Ben —"

"I know, I know. Too much, too soon. I get impatient."

Running a finger along Ben's lower lip, Ray nodded in understanding. Nobody knew better than him how hard it was to wait to for his body to get back in the swing again after being shot and clobbered. "Yeah, me, too, but I want you in good shape, not all crumbled up and broken. Do what the doctors tell you, okay? Take it from me, you can't rush this getting well stuff."

"Ironically, I do believe I've said that to you a time or two."

"Or twenty."

"Or twenty, yes." Ben caught Ray's fingers at his mouth and kissed the tips. "I saw Stevie today. He's nearly finished with the renovations. He's framing out the outbuilding and putting the roof over the extended porch. You could move back in next week, if you want."

Ray shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"I move back in when you do."

"But, Ray, that could be a long time. I'll be going to rehab for several weeks before I'm released."

"I know that. Doesn't matter. When you go home, I'll go home, not a minute before."

Instead of arguing, Ben just smiled and kissed his fingers again. Ben knew as well as Ray did that when he finally made it home, they'd be together doing the happily ever after and greatness thing all rolled up into one.

The End


End file.
